14. Xavier
The flight to Hawaii was seven hours of controlled chaos.
Isabelle had commandeered the seat across from me, her laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard as she managed her fashion empire from thirty thousand feet. Every few minutes she'd glance up, take in whatever Kim and Zoe were doing, and smile before returning to work.
"She's adorable," Isabelle said during one of these glances. Zoe was asleep against Kim's shoulder, her stuffed elephant clutched to her chest. "Where did you find her?"
"The secretary pool, technically."
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "And the child?"
"Came as a package deal."
"Mmm." She studied me over the rim of her champagne flute. Isabelle had our father's eyes—sharp, assessing, missing nothing.
The plane touched down in Honolulu just after noon, local time. A fleet of black SUVs waited on the tarmac to ferry us to the hotel—Sebastian's newest acquisition, a sprawling resort on the North Shore that had taken two years and an obscene amount of money to renovate.
It was stunning. White sand beaches, crystal blue water, palm trees swaying in a breeze that smelled like salt and plumeria. The kind of place that existed in travel magazines and honeymoon fantasies.
The kind of place that made it very hard to remember this had started as fake.
We gathered in the lobby while Sebastian handled check-in.
The family milled about—Grandmother inspecting the floral arrangements with a critical eye, Helena chatting with Aria about the event schedule, Isabelle already on her phone again.
Kim stood beside me, Zoe's hand in hers, looking slightly overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all.
"Alright," Sebastian said, returning with a stack of room keys. "Helena and Mother, you're in the east wing. Isabelle, the suite overlooking the gardens. Aria and I are in the owner's suite, and Xavier..." He consulted his list. "You and Kim are in the honeymoon villa."
Kim went rigid beside me.
"The what?" she hissed.
"Honeymoon villa." Sebastian handed me two key cards, his expression perfectly neutral. "It's our most romantic accommodation. Private beach access, infinity pool, two bedrooms." He paused. "I assumed you'd want to share, given the circumstances."
"The circumstances," Kim repeated flatly.
"Your relationship." Sebastian's gaze flicked between us. "Is there a problem?"
The lobby had gone quiet. I could feel the weight of my family's attention—Grandmother's knowing smile, Helena's gentle curiosity, Isabelle's barely concealed amusement.
"No," I said smoothly. "No problem at all. Thank you, Sebastian."
Kim's elbow connected with my ribs. Hard.
"Can I speak to you?" she said through clenched teeth. "Privately?"
"Of course, darling."
She grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a potted palm tree, which offered approximately zero privacy but was apparently the best she could manage.
"What are you doing?" The words came out in a vicious whisper.
"Accepting our room key."
"Our room key. As in, one room. For both of us."
"There are two bedrooms. Sebastian said—"
"I heard what Sebastian said." Her eyes were blazing. "This isn't what we agreed to. This isn't—we can't—"
"Kim." I kept my voice low, fighting the urge to smile. She was so angry, her cheeks flushed, her jaw tight. Adorable. Absolutely adorable. And completely unaware of it, which made it worse. "It's fine. I'll take the small room. You and Zoe can have your own space."
She opened her mouth, probably to spit out more venomous words, but my grandmother appeared from nowhere. "Are you two alright? You seem to be having quite the discussion."
Kim's mouth snapped shut.
I turned, sliding an arm around her waist. "Just debating which side of the bed I get. You know how she is about her morning sun."
Grandmother's eyes sparkled. "I'm sure you'll work it out."
Behind her, Isabelle was making no effort to hide her amusement. Helena looked mildly concerned. Sebastian just looked impatient to move things along.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to Kim's lips. Quick. Casual. The kind of kiss a real boyfriend would give without thinking.
She froze against me.
"There," I murmured against her mouth. "All better. Now smile, darling. We have an audience."
The smile she gave me was more threat than a greeting.
The honeymoon villa was, predictably, ridiculous.
A sprawling single-story structure with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. Living room, full kitchen, master bedroom with a bed the size of a small country. And off to the side, a smaller room—cozy, with a twin bed and its own tiny bathroom.
"That one's mine," I said, dropping my bag on the twin bed. "You and Zoe take the master."
Kim stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "You don't have to—"
"I want to." I turned to face her. "I know this is... a lot. I know I pushed in the lobby. But I'm not going to make this harder than it needs to be."
She studied me for a long moment. Whatever she saw made some of the tension drain from her shoulders.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Zoe came barreling through the villa, shrieking with delight at everything she discovered.
The infinity pool! The outdoor shower! The fruit basket on the counter!
Kim followed her, helping her unpack, changing her out of her travel clothes into a sundress that made her look like a tiny tropical flower.
I changed too—traded my flight clothes for linen pants and a loose cotton shirt, the kind of thing Isabelle would approve of. When I emerged, Kim was in a sundress of her own, simple and white, her hair loose around her shoulders.
She looked like she belonged here. Like she'd always belonged here.
A knock on the door interrupted my staring.
Evie stood on the threshold, looking nervous and hopeful in equal measure. "Hi. Um. I was wondering if Zoe wanted to see the hotel? There's a really cool tide pool behind the restaurant, and sometimes you can find starfish."
Zoe gasped. "Starfish?!"
"Is that okay?" Evie asked Kim. "I'll watch her. I promise."
Kim hesitated, but only for a moment. "Okay. But stay where the staff can see you. And be back before dinner."
"I will." Evie's whole face lit up. She held out her hand to Zoe. "Come on. I'll show you my favorite spots."
They disappeared down the path, Zoe's excited chatter fading into the distance. We stood in silence for a moment, the ocean breeze drifting through the open windows.
"Walk with me?" I asked.
She nodded.
The resort was even more impressive up close.
Winding paths through tropical gardens, hidden alcoves with stunning views, and staff members who greeted us by name even though we'd been here less than an hour.
Sebastian's attention to detail was evident in every perfectly placed stone, every artfully arranged flower.
I hated how good he was at this.
"You're doing it again," Kim said.
"Doing what?"
"That thing where you pretend you're fine while silently comparing yourself to your brother."
I opened my mouth to deny it. Closed it again. "Am I that obvious?"
"To me." She glanced at me sideways. "For what it's worth, I like your version better."
"My version of what?"
"Everything." She shrugged.
Before I could respond—before I could process the warmth spreading through my chest—a voice cut through the tropical air.
"Kim?"
We both turned.
Cole Matthews stood on the path ahead of us, looking like he'd just stepped off a yacht. White linen shirt, pressed slacks, that same polished corporate charm that made me want to punch something.
Kim went pale.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was ice.
"The Dubois family invited me." Cole spread his hands, all innocence. "Part of the investor relations. I had no idea you'd be here."
The lie was so smooth it almost sounded true.
"Is that true?" Kim turned to me, her eyes blazing. "Did you invite him?"
"I didn't—"
She didn't wait for me to finish. She spun on her heel and stormed away, her white sundress fluttering behind her like a flag of surrender.
Cole watched her go with an expression I couldn't read. "She definitely hates me."
"Can you blame her?"
He flinched. Just slightly, but I caught it. "No. I suppose I can't."
I didn't wait for him to say anything else. I took off after Kim, following the flash of white through the gardens.
"Kim! Kim, wait—"
She didn't slow down. If anything, she walked faster, her sandals slapping against the stone path.
"Kim, please—"
"Leave me alone, Xavier."
"I didn't know he'd be here. I swear to you, I had no idea—"
"It doesn't matter." She finally stopped, whirling to face me. We were in front of an unfinished wing of the hotel—construction materials stacked under tarps, doors propped open to air out fresh paint. "None of this matters. I shouldn't have come. I should have known better than to—"
"Than to what?" I stepped closer. "Talk to me. Please. I can't help if I don't understand what's happening."
"You can't help." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Nobody can help. This is my mess, my past, my—"
"Your what?" I reached for her arm. She let me take it. "Kim. What did he do to you?"
She stared at me for a long moment. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn't crying. Not yet.
"Not here," she said finally. "Somewhere private."
I looked around. The unfinished wing stretched before us—empty rooms, no staff, no one to overhear. I tried the nearest door. It swung open to reveal a hotel room in progress: furniture still wrapped in plastic, curtains not yet hung, the smell of fresh paint hanging in the air.
Kim walked past me and sat on the edge of the plastic-wrapped bed. I closed the door and joined her, leaving space between us.
"I met Cole six years ago," she said. Her voice was flat, controlled. "I was working at a hotel in the city. Front desk, night shift. He was a guest."
She paused. Took a breath.