CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
Ivy
The morning light spills through the cracks of the blinds. The storm has finally passed, leaving a quiet stillness in its wake. Carter is already up, the sounds of him moving around the kitchen filtering into the bedroom. I can hear the clink of dishes, the hum of the coffee machine—subtle noises, but they carry weight in the silence.
I pull myself out of bed, stretching my sore limbs from last night’s restless sleep. I don’t want to think about the nightmares that woke me up, the ones that carried me back to my childhood. The storm I lived through with my family—stranded in that car, desperate for warmth, the endless rain pounding on the roof. I swallow the memories, pushing them to the back of my mind. The mold that partially disabled my brother’s leg, the storm that finished it.
I walk into the kitchen, finding Carter at the counter, making breakfast like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He’s wearing a plain T-shirt, his hair a bit disheveled from sleep. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. How can a man be so effortlessly handsome, even when he’s just… being?
“Morning,” I say, my voice hoarse from sleep.
“Morning,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder. “Coffee’s brewing. Thought you could use a cup.”
“I see you did the dishes,” I say, eyeing the spotless sink. “But I thought the deal was—you cook, I wash?”
Carter arches a brow, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. “That was before I realized you go into full hibernation mode every morning.”
I chuckle, walking over to the counter where he’s set up a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. “Thanks,” I murmur, taking a seat at the table.
I can’t help but watch him—how easily he moves around the kitchen, like he belongs there. It’s strange, considering he’s the kind of man who owns the world, and yet he doesn’t act like it.
“You told me that you hadn’t done… this in a while, but it seems like you’re a natural in the kitchen,” I say suspiciously.
He chuckles under his breath. “That’s because I have a daughter with allergies and very strong opinions about food. After her mom left, I didn’t want her to feel… like I did growing up. So weekends are ours. Always.”
Oh my god, that just melts my heart. I could cry right now from all of the emotions running through me.
I blink fast, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. Instead of breaking down, I manage a smile.
We fall into a comfortable silence as we eat. My mind, however, is anything but still. The case. The email.
The truth is burning a hole in my chest.
I shouldn’t have opened it last night—but pretending ignorance wouldn’t change reality.
Volcor Holdings.
The company responsible for stealing my home, my childhood is his company.
I pick at my toast, my stomach twisting.
I know Carter’s not the villain. He was just a kid when it happened.
But the man he is now—the one who holds my heart without even knowing it—is tied to the ruins of my past.
“Ivy? Hey… Ivy?” Carter’s voice breaks through the haze in my mind, bringing me back to the present. I blink rapidly, refocusing on him standing in front of me, concern etched on his face. The Daddy in him.
“Sorry,” I mumble, setting down my fork. “Just lost in thought.”
He takes a seat across from me, his expression softening. “Is everything okay?”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. “Carter, there’s something I need to tell you.” The words hangs heavily between us, tension crackling in the air.
His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features. “What is it?”
I pause, searching for the right words.
But as life would have it, a knock on the door has him springing to his feet.
“Hold that thought,” he says, brushing a kiss across my lips before standing to answer it.
At the door stands a man in a maintenance uniform, clipboard in hand. “Mr. Volcor? We’re just here to check on the unit. Saw you reported some flooding. After a quick inspection, we’d love to offer you and your wife a complimentary tour of the island while we get this place cleaned up. What do you say?”
Carter flashes his easy grin. “Sounds perfect.”
The man beams. “Your driver will be here in an hour. Take your time getting ready. He’ll wait for you outside.”
After the door closes, Carter turns back to me, mischief sparkling in his eyes.
“How about we finish that serious talk later?” he says, crossing the room in a few easy strides. He tugs me up from the chair and into his arms, the smile on his lips pure trouble. “Right now… I’ve got to take my wife on a tour.”
He winks.
Universe… just swallow me whole!
Our off-road Jeep sits waiting for us near the entrance, stripped-down and rugged, the paint dusted with dried mud. It’s open-air but roomy, with a canvas top stretched overhead.
Carter helps me into the back seat, and even though there’s plenty of space for us to spread out, he slides in close beside me anyway, his arm stretched lazily along the seat behind my shoulders.
The driver greets us with an easy smile. “Perfect day for exploring. The island always shines after a good storm.”
As we pull away from the resort, the breeze lifts my hair, and I lean into the gentle warmth of it. The world blurs into lush jungle and black volcanic rock, the road winding higher into the hills.
Carter tips his head back against the seat, sunglasses perched low on his nose, looking every bit the man you fall for without meaning to.
I let myself watch him for a moment, soaking it in—the curve of his smile, the way his hand rests casually but protectively near mine.
Our first stop is a roadside fruit stand tucked under a grove of palm trees. Strings of shells dangle from the beams, clinking softly in the breeze. The stand smells like ripe mangoes, sugarcane, and warm wood.
Carter buys us two fresh coconuts, the tops cracked open with machete precision, and hands one to me with a teasing bow.
“To surviving tempests,” he says, bumping his straw against mine.
“And finding peace on the other side,” I answer softly.
The coconut water is cool and sweet, a shock against the humidity still lingering in the air. We sip quietly, the world narrowing down to just the two of us, the gentle clink of shells, and the soft hum of waves beyond the trees.
Back in the Jeep, Carter rolls the side canvas up to let more air in. His thigh brushes mine—not crammed, just close enough to feel each other. Being with him feels so natural.
We wind higher into the hills, stopping at lookout points that take my breath away—vast valleys carpeted in green, waterfalls slicing through cliffs like silver threads, the ocean sprawling endlessly beyond it all.
At one lookout, Carter wraps his arm around my waist and points out a rainbow arcing faintly over the mountains. His hand stays there, fingers brushing my side like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
“You doing okay?” he asks quietly when he catches me staring too long at the horizon.
I nod, but something in me stirs. Some ache for a life I’ve never had but could almost imagine, here with him.
Our next stop is a small open-air market in a nearby village. Wooden stalls burst with handmade jewelry, handwoven baskets, and brightly dyed sarongs fluttering in the breeze.
That’s when it happens.
A couple by one of the jewelry booths does a double-take. I see the woman lean into her partner, whispering excitedly, their eyes flicking to Carter, to me, back to Carter.
Recognition flashes across their faces.
Panic prickles at my skin. Of course people know him.
He’s Carter freaking Volcor.
I shift slightly away from him without thinking, the old reflex of “you don’t belong here” tightening my chest.
Before I can retreat further, Carter notices. He steps closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of my back, his mouth dipping to my ear.
“They can look all they want,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. “I’m with you. Only you.”
My heart stutters.
The couple looks away, and Carter presses a kiss just below my ear, just because he can.
“Ivy,” he says softly, “you’re the only thing I see right now.”
Universe… would you just swallow me up already?
We spend the next hour wandering the market, laughing over the touristy souvenirs and letting island time swallow us whole. Carter insists on buying me a delicate shell bracelet from a little girl selling jewelry with her grandmother. He fastens it around my wrist himself, his fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
“For luck,” he says, his voice husky. “And maybe… to remember this day.”
The afternoon stretches lazy and golden as we make one last stop—an isolated black sand beach.
The sand is cool under my feet as we kick off our shoes. The beach curves into a crescent hugged by volcanic cliffs, the ocean gentle and glassy under the muted sun.
Carter drags a towel from the Jeep and tosses it down on the sand. We sit side by side, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us.
He leans back on his elbows, one knee bent, watching the water with that faraway look I’m starting to recognize—the look of a man carrying more than he says.
Without thinking, I reach over and trace the shell bracelet he gave me. He catches my hand, twining our fingers together.
“I don’t want to go back yet,” I say in barely a whisper.
He looks at me then—really looks—and the emotion in his eyes floors me.
“Then we stay,” he says simply. “We stay as long as you want.”
And for a little while, we do. Wrapped in salt air and sun-warmed skin, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
But I know that it does. I know that this man I am crazy about is the owner of V Corp. Or should I say, Volcor Holdings.
I know I should tell him. I should sit up, say the words out loud, shatter this fragile, perfect moment with the truth.
But I don’t.
Not yet.
Because right now, I just want to lay in his arms a little longer.
Pretend.
Breathe.
Feel.
“I love you, Ivy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against my cheek.
My heart clenches so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t feel it.
I squeeze our joined hands instead of answering, trying to hold the pieces of myself together.
Because I do love him. God, I love him so much it terrifies me.
But with the story still hanging between us, with the deception coiled like a snake under my skin—
I can’t say it back. Not yet.
So I just hold on tighter.
We lie there in the quiet, letting the weight of everything we’re not saying fill the space between us.
One kiss turns into another. And another. Soft at first. Searching. Then deeper. Needier.
It’s not about sex this time. It’s something different.
We don’t rush. We don’t tear at each other the way we have before.
We move slowly. I’ve been in long-term relationships, yet nothing has ever felt like this before.
He kisses me like I’m something precious, something breakable, and for once in my life, I let myself believe I am.
When we finally come together, it isn’t rough or desperate. It’s slow. It’s careful. It’s… love.
And it ruins me even more than the truth sitting heavy in my chest.