in tides with the Billionaire Alpha

Chapter 1 – Olivia’s POV The salty sea air kisses my skin as I step onto the deck of the Celestial Majesty. The sun reflects off the endless ocean, creating a sparkling view so beautiful it feels unreal. For a moment, I close my eyes and breathe it all in — the soft hum of the ship’s engines, the distant laughter of passengers, and the promise of a fresh start. "Finally," I mutter to myself, opening my eyes with a small smile. "No deadlines, no meetings, no stress." This cruise was supposed to be my dream getaway. Seven days of luxury, celebration, and the ultimate New Year’s Eve party. For once, I decided to treat myself. Ethan was supposed to be the cherry on top, but lately, he’s felt more like a dull garnish. Still, I’m hoping this trip will change that. Maybe this is what we need. A reset. “Liv, come on,” Ethan calls from behind, his voice carrying that usual mix of charm and impatience. He’s already ahead, sunglasses on, looking every bit like a man in control of the world. His sandy blond hair catches the sun just right, and I watch as a few women glance his way. He knows it too. “Coming,” I say, forcing my feet to move. The ship is massive, more like a floating city than a vessel. Crystal chandeliers hang from the lobby ceiling, marble floors shine beneath my sandals, and everything smells faintly of vanilla and fresh linen. It’s luxurious, exactly how I imagined. “Don’t dawdle, Liv,” Ethan says over his shoulder as he scrolls on his phone. I roll my eyes. He’s been glued to that thing since we boarded. I glance at the other couples walking hand-in-hand, laughing together. A small twist of jealousy curls in my chest. We used to be like that, didn’t we? Now, it’s like I’m a background character in Ethan’s personal movie. By the time we get to our cabin, Ethan is already tossing his suitcase onto the bed, unzipping it with one hand while texting with the other. "Can you believe this place?" I ask, spinning around slowly to take it all in. The room is sleek and modern, with a large balcony that opens to an endless view of the ocean. "This is exactly what I needed." “Yeah, it’s nice,” he says without looking up. His eyes are still on his phone. I clench my jaw but swallow the irritation. It’s fine. This trip is for me, I remind myself. I unpack slowly, placing my clothes neatly in the wardrobe. Out of the corner of my eye, Ethan’s reflection catches my attention. He’s smiling — not at me, but at whatever’s on his phone. My chest tightens, but I tell myself I’m imagining it. --- Later that evening, we head to the ship’s grand dining hall for dinner. The chandeliers glow like stars overhead, the room filled with the soft hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and elegant piano music. “This is gorgeous,” I say, scanning the room. Everyone is dressed like royalty. Floor-length gowns, tailored suits, sparkling jewelry. “Yeah, yeah,” Ethan mutters, eyes glued to his phone again. I grip the edge of the table, nails pressing into the wood. "You could at least look at me, Ethan." He glances up, eyes flashing with irritation. "Relax, Liv. It's just a message from work." "Work? We're on vacation," I hiss. "You promised no work this week, remember?" "Some of us have responsibilities," he replies, his voice sharp as glass. "Right. Because my job isn’t real responsibility," I snap. His jaw tightens, and he puts his phone face down on the table. “Can we not do this? We’re supposed to be having fun.” I want to argue, but I hate making a scene. So, I pick up my glass of water and sip slowly, swallowing more than just water. “Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. The waiter comes to take our order, and I let Ethan handle it while I focus on the people around us. A couple two tables over shares a quiet laugh, leaning into each other like they’re the only ones in the room. My chest aches, and I tear my eyes away. That’s when I see him. A man sitting alone at the edge of the room, sipping from a glass of dark red wine. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a sharp black suit that fits him like it was made for him. His hair is jet black, slicked back but with just a hint of rebellion in the loose strand falling near his brow. But it’s his eyes that trap me — sharp, gray, like storm clouds right before the lightning strikes. He’s watching me. Our eyes meet, and I freeze. Something about his gaze is too intense, like he’s seeing everything I’m trying to hide. I glance away quickly, heat rising to my cheeks. When I look back, he’s still watching me. “Who’s that guy?” I ask Ethan, nodding toward the man. “Who?” Ethan doesn’t even turn around, too busy scrolling on his phone again. “Forget it,” I mutter, annoyed at myself for even asking. --- After dinner, Ethan says he’s “going to check out the casino,” but I know what that means. He’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll be left wandering the ship alone. “Don’t wait up,” he says with a grin that’s more smug than charming. “I wasn’t planning to,” I reply, folding my arms. I wander to the upper deck where the breeze is cooler, and the stars hang like diamonds against a velvet sky. Couples walk hand-in-hand, leaning into each other as if the sea itself can’t pull them apart. I lean against the railing, letting the wind whip through my hair. The lights of the ship reflect on the water below, and I watch them ripple like a thousand tiny lanterns. This was supposed to be my dream vacation. Instead, it feels like I’m more alone than ever. “Rough night?” a voice asks from beside me. I turn quickly, startled. It’s him. The man from the dining hall. His suit jacket is gone, his sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms dusted with light scars. He leans on the railing next to me, his gaze fixed on the ocean. “I’m fine,” I reply, trying to sound indifferent. He glances at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t seem that way at dinner.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Were you watching me?” “Hard not to,” he says, turning to face me fully. “You have that look.” “What look?” I ask, my heart doing an odd little jump. “The look of someone who’s tired of pretending everything's fine.” His gaze is steady, and for some reason, it feels like he’s pulled a secret right out of me. “I’m not pretending anything,” I lie. “Sure,” he says, tilting his head like he can see right through me. “Boyfriend troubles?” I blink, stunned for a second too long. “None of your business,” I finally say. He raises his hands, palms up. “Fair enough. Just thought you might want to hear this.” He steps in closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “People like him never change.” A cold shiver runs down my spine, but it’s not from the wind. “Goodnight, stranger,” I say, forcing my feet to move. “Goodnight, Olivia,” he calls back, his voice smooth as silk. I stop in my tracks. Slowly, I turn to face him. “How do you know my name?” His smirk deepens. “I know a lot of things.” A sharp gust of wind blows, carrying his scent — cedarwood and something wild. I stare at him for a moment longer, unsure whether I should feel afraid or intrigued. My gut tells me both. With one last glance, I walk away, heart pounding harder than it should. But even as I head back to my cabin, I can feel his eyes on me, like the storm has already begun, and I’m standing right in its path.