Weekend Away
756 Words
Alara Grey’s POV
The jet hummed beneath my heels as we ascended into the clouds. Everything inside was pure luxury—cream leather seats, gold fixtures, chilled champagne already waiting in slender flutes.
Clarke slid into the seat beside me, her freshly blown hair cascading over her shoulders like she belonged in Vogue.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispered, nudging me gently.
I blinked at her. “For what?”
“For finally letting someone take care of you for once. And not just anyone,” she grinned, flicking her eyes toward the front of the jet. “That man is literal royalty in a suit.”
I didn’t say anything. I just followed her gaze—straight to him.
Ace Wolfe stood near the cabin’s bar, speaking quietly with the flight attendant. Midnight slacks, black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show strong, veined forearms and a watch that looked like it could buy a small country.
And somehow, he looked… effortless.
He caught me staring.
Of course he did.
His storm-grey eyes dragged over me like velvet, then lingered on my legs crossed in the silk set Clarke forced me to wear. My breath hitched. His lips curved, barely.
No words. Just… tension.
Clarke leaned in again, her tone suddenly softer. “You know he asked my dad’s permission before flying you out?”
I whipped my head around. “What?”
She nodded. “I overheard them. My dad was thrilled. Said you’ve always been like family. He thinks Ace has good taste.”
God. That made my heart pound in ways I wasn’t ready for.
Just then, Ace moved toward us. Every step screamed control, confidence, danger.
“Alara,” he said, voice like dusk. “Meet Matt. My closest friend.”
A tall man appeared beside him—sharp jawline, mischief in his smile, and a lazy grace that made him seem born for chaos.
“So this is the bride,” Matt said, offering a hand. “You’re prettier than Ace described. But colder, I bet.”
I shook his hand, narrowing my eyes with a teasing glare. “I’m not cold. Just not impressed yet.”
Matt whistled low. “She’s got bite. I like her.”
Ace’s voice was calm but commanding. “That’s enough.”
Matt raised both brows. “Protective already?”
Ace ignored him and turned to me, those eyes pinning me in place. “You look beautiful.”
I blinked.
No smile. No flirtation. Just pure, disarming truth.
“I mean it,” he added, leaning closer—too close. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
My heart stuttered.
And then, just as quickly, he turned back to the bar.
Leaving me breathless.
⸻
Maldives — Arrival
The descent into paradise was a dream.
A line of sleek black cars waited as we stepped off the jet, warm air kissing my skin. Beyond the palms and white sand was the resort—exclusive, secluded, and ridiculously beautiful.
Our car drove us along a stretch of private road until a glass-walled villa came into view. Infinity pool. Oceanfront. Private deck with its own cabana.
“Two bedrooms?” I asked the concierge as we stepped in.
“Just one,” he said with a bow. “Mr. Wolfe requested the honeymoon villa.”
I turned to Ace. “Seriously?”
He smirked, voice low. “We’re engaged. No one would believe it if we slept apart.”
Clarke giggled behind me. “Don’t worry, bestie. I got my own villa. You enjoy this one.”
Matt added, “Try not to kill each other. Or do—makes for better stories.”
They both disappeared, leaving me standing alone with the man I’d signed my future to.
He walked past me into the suite, unbuttoning the top of his black shirt, his back muscles flexing as he did.
I followed slowly, every step echoing like a dare.
The villa was ridiculous—white marble floors, a bed big enough for six, floor-to-ceiling windows opening to the sea.
My suitcase was already unpacked. My dresses lined up in the walk-in closet. Even my favorite skincare products sat neatly by the mirror.
Ace watched me take it all in.
Then he said, “This weekend, you’re mine.”
His words hung heavy between us.
No teasing. No bravado.
Just a declaration.
And the sound of the waves was the only thing loud enough to cover the pounding of my heart.
- Writer
