Alexander's POV
The sun dips low, casting a burnished gold across the pool. It shimmers like liquid fire, making the water sparkle like f*****g diamonds. The whole damn view is something out of a painting. Serene. Quiet. A lie.
I stand at my office window, fingers wrapped around a crystal tumbler of whiskey, the liquid burning its way down my throat—but not nearly as hard as the thoughts I keep trying—and failing—to drown.
Then she steps out.
Ivy. Wet. Dripping.
My fingers tighten around the glass, the edge digging into my palm.
That bikini. That f*****g bikini.
Red. Barely there. Strings. More sin than fabric. The water clings to her like it misses her already, gliding over her skin in ways I shouldn’t be watching. Ways I have no goddamn business watching.
She stretches her arms o
