The cost of revenge

Five Years Later Shayla Simmons-Donato The sunrise over the Oasis was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And I'd seen a lot of beautiful things in my life. I stood on the balcony of our penthouse suite—the one Ace had designed specifically for us, with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the ocean and a view that stretched all the way to the horizon. The sky was bleeding shades of pink and orange, the water glittering like scattered diamonds. Below, the resort was waking up. Staff were moving through the gardens, guests were beginning to stir, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the gentle crash of waves against the shore. But none of that compared to the view inside. "Mommy! Look!" I turned and smiled as my daughter, Aria, ran toward me, her tiny feet slapping against the marble floor. She was four years old, with wild red curls—her father's hair, my spirit—and eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was holding up a seashell she'd found on the beach yesterday, pressing it to her ear with dramatic concentration. "I can hear the ocean!" she announced, her little face scrunched up in awe. "That's because you're standing next to the ocean, baby," I laughed, scooping her up into my arms. She smelled like coconut sunscreen and saltwater—a combination that had become the scent of my happiness. "You're a goofball. Just like your daddy." "Daddy's not a goofball. Daddy's a king." I snorted. "Is that what he told you?" "He told me he's the king of the castle." She nodded solemnly. "And you're the queen." "Well, he's right about that part." I kissed her forehead and carried her back inside, where the suite was bathed in warm morning light. The penthouse was sprawling—five bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, a private pool, and more square footage than any family of four needed. But Ace had insisted. "You deserve a castle," he'd said. "And I'm going to give you one." And he had. I set Aria down and watched her race toward the kitchen, no doubt in search of the chocolate chip pancakes that Chef Ricardo made specially for her every morning. I smiled, shaking my head, and turned toward the bedroom. Ace was still asleep. I paused in the doorway, my heart swelling at the sight of him. He was sprawled across the bed, his dark hair mussed, his face relaxed in a way that only happened when he was completely at peace. He'd changed so much in the past five years—the sharp edges had softened, the coldness had melted away. He smiled more, laughed more, loved more. He was still the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. I walked to the bed and perched on the edge, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. He stirred, a low rumble in his chest, and his hand reached out to grab mine. "You're staring," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "I'm admiring," I corrected him. "There's a difference." "Not when you do it." His eyes fluttered open, and the warmth in them made my stomach flip—the same way it had five years ago. The same way it always would. "You look at me like I'm the last cookie in the jar." I laughed. "You wish." "I know." He pulled me down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my neck. "I still can't believe you're mine." "I still can't believe you're mine," I whispered back, running my fingers through his hair. "After everything we went through..." "Don't." His voice was muffled against my skin. "Don't think about the past. Think about now. About us. About this." He lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes shining with an intensity that stole my breath. "I spent five years running from you. I spent the last five years running toward you. And I'm never going to stop. You're my home, Shayla. You and Aria and Leo. You're everything." Leo. Our son. I smiled, thinking of him—three years old, his father's miniature, with his dark hair and stubborn chin and a laugh that could light up an entire room. He was downstairs with his nanny, probably causing trouble, because he was definitely his father's child. "Speaking of Leo," I said, "we should probably go rescue Maria. He's been awake for an hour." "Let him wreak havoc." Ace rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him. "He's my son. It's his birthright." "Birthright?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're impossible." "And you love me anyway." I kissed him. "Against my better judgment." "Always against your better judgment." He kissed me back, deeper this time, his hand sliding up my back. "That's what makes it fun." We stayed there for a moment, wrapped in each other, the sounds of the resort drifting up from below. It was moments like these that I'd never take for granted—the quiet ones, the peaceful ones, the ones where the world felt right. "Mommy! Daddy! The pancakes are getting cold!" We laughed, disentangling ourselves, and I stood up, pulling Ace with me. He grabbed my hand and held it, his fingers intertwining with mine, and we walked to the kitchen together. Our children were waiting. Our life was waiting. And for the first time in my life, I was excited to see what the future held. --- Later that afternoon, I stood on the beach, watching Ace chase the kids through the waves. Leo was squealing with laughter, his little legs pumping as he tried to escape his father. Aria was riding on Ace's shoulders, her tiny hands gripping his hair like reins. The image was so absurdly perfect—my billionaire husband, the once-cold Ice Prince, splashing through the surf like a little boy himself—that my heart felt like it might burst. "Look at them." I turned to find my mother standing beside me, a soft smile on her face. She looked healthy—radiant, even—her hair grown back thick and silver, her eyes bright. Five years had been kind to her. She'd beaten the cancer, reclaimed her life, and found love again. "Look at all of you," she continued, taking my hand. "Who would have thought, five years ago, that we'd be here?" "I wouldn't," I admitted. "I was so broken back then. I didn't think I'd ever heal." "But you did." "Because of him." I looked back at Ace, who was now pretending to be a sea monster, chasing a giggling Leo through the shallow water. "Because of all of them." "And because of you." She squeezed my hand. "You're the strongest person I know, Elena. You always have been. You survived foster care. You survived losing your baby. You survived your grandfather. You survived a broken heart. And you came out the other side, not just surviving—thriving." I blinked back tears. "I had a lot of help." "Everyone needs help." She smiled. "But not everyone is brave enough to accept it. You were. That's what makes you extraordinary." I hugged her, burying my face in her shoulder, and let the tears fall. They were happy tears, the kind I hadn't shed in years. "Thank you," I whispered. "For everything." "Thank me by being happy." She pulled back, wiping my cheeks with her thumb. "That's all I've ever wanted for you." "I am," I said, and I meant it. "I really, really am." --- By the time the sun set, the resort was alive with music and laughter. The annual Oasis Gala was in full swing—a celebration of the resort's fifth anniversary, attended by the wealthiest and most influential people in the world. But the only person I cared about was the man spinning me across the dance floor. Ace's hand was warm on my back, his eyes never leaving mine. We moved together like we'd been dancing for centuries, our bodies swaying in perfect rhythm. The world faded away—the music, the crowd, the flashing cameras. There was only us. "You're the most beautiful woman in this room," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." "You're biased." "I'm honest." He dipped me low, pulling me up just as the music swelled. "I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. It took me a long time to admit it, but I've never stopped. I'll never stop." My heart fluttered. "Is this your way of telling me you want another dance?" "It's my way of telling you I want another lifetime." We kissed, deep and passionate, and the crowd erupted in applause. I laughed against his lips, pulling back to look at him. "You're such a show-off." "Only for you." He grinned. "Always for you." The night wound down, and we found ourselves back in our suite, the kids tucked into bed, the resort quiet. Ace poured us glasses of wine, and we stood on the balcony, watching the stars twinkle overhead. "It feels like a dream," I said, leaning against the railing. "Sometimes I feel like I'm going to wake up and it'll all be gone." "It's not a dream." Ace wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. "This is real. This is forever." I turned in his embrace and looked up at him. His eyes were soft, vulnerable, full of the love I'd waited so long to see. "I love you," I said, and the words felt different now—lighter, freer. No more pain. No more fear. Just love. "I love you," he said, and he kissed me. "I love you more than anything. More than my company, more than my name, more than my pride. You're the most important thing in the world to me. You and the kids. You're my whole world." "And you're mine." I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I used to think I'd never be happy. That I was destined to struggle, to survive, to scrape by. But you showed me I was wrong." "You showed yourself you were wrong," he corrected me. "I just helped you see it." "Tomato, tomahto." He laughed, and I felt the vibration of it against my cheek. "Did you just quote an American idiom at me?" "I did." I grinned. "Get used to it." "I'm always going to be used to you." He held me tighter. "Because I'm never letting you go." --- Later, much later, I lay in bed with Ace's arms wrapped around me. The kids were asleep. The resort was silent. And I was exactly where I was supposed to be. "The Oasis is everything I dreamed it would be," I whispered, my voice soft. "But it's not my greatest achievement." "What is?" he murmured, his lips brushing my hair. "Us." I turned to face him, my hand resting on his chest. "You and me. The kids. This family. That's my greatest achievement. That's the thing I'm proudest of." His eyes glittered in the moonlight. "You're going to make me cry." "Good. You deserve to cry. You've been too tough for too long." He laughed, pulling me into a kiss. "I love you, you impossible woman." "I love you, you impossible man." "Fair enough." We lay in comfortable silence, and I let the peace wash over me. This was my life now. This was my happily ever after. It hadn't come easily—nothing worth having ever came easily. But it had come. And it was worth every tear, every heartache, every sleepless night. I looked at Ace, at the man who had broken me and rebuilt me, who had betrayed me and sacrificed everything for me, who had lost me and found me again. He was mine. And I was his. Forever. --- Five Years Later Ace Donato She looked at me the way she had on our wedding day—like I was the sun, like I was everything. And I realized, as I held her in my arms, that she was right. She was the sun. She was the light in my life, the reason I got up every morning, the reason I had fought so hard to become the man she deserved. "I love you," I said, and the words were simple, but they meant everything. She smiled—that beautiful, dazzling smile that had first captivated me a decade ago. "I know." And that, I realized, was the truest thing of all.