Aria’s POV.
The resort in Thailand was supposed to be a paradise-a breathtaking escape filled with shimmering turquoise waters, golden sands stretching endlessly, and a luxurious sanctuary that promised peace. People came here to relax, to unwind, to leave their troubles behind. But for me, it was just another gilded cage, another beautiful prison where the walls were made of opulence and the chains were invisible, yet unbreakable.
The moment we stepped off the private jet, I felt Zander’s presence smothering me like a dark, oppressive shadow I couldn’t shake. His cold indifference and simmering anger followed me everywhere, clinging to me, and though I wanted to shake it off, it clung to my skin like a second layer. I hated it. I hated him. But I refused-refused-to let his control swallow me whole.
The staff greeted us with warm, practiced smiles, their voices cheerful as they welcomed us into the grand lobby of the resort. Everything about the place screamed luxury, from the marble floors that gleamed under the sunlight pouring through the glass ceiling to the towering indoor palm trees swaying lazily in the breeze of hidden fans. The air smelled of orchids and saltwater, a combination meant to soothe, but it did nothing for me. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back at them, couldn’t muster the energy to play the part of the happy guest. My thoughts were a hurricane, a relentless storm that replayed the events of the flight over and over in my mind. Zander’s cruelty, his blatant display of dominance and power-it all burned in my chest like a fire that refused to be extinguished. The humiliation of it, the helplessness, it was an ache that throbbed deep inside me, and no amount of beautiful scenery could erase it.
Of course, Zander had insisted on a private suite, one that was tucked away from the other guests like a fortress built just for us. Always in control. Always the one making decisions as if my opinion didn’t matter, as if I didn’t matter. He didn’t even ask if I wanted the suite-he simply told the staff what he wanted, his tone leaving no room for argument. As we followed the concierge through the sprawling resort, his hand brushed the small of my back. It wasn’t a gentle touch. It wasn’t meant to comfort. It was possessive, a silent reminder of who he thought I belonged to. The heat of his hand burned through the fabric of my dress, making my skin crawl. I stiffened under his touch but didn’t pull away. Not yet. Not here.
The suite was everything I expected it to be-extravagant, excessive, and undeniably beautiful. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a stunning view of the ocean, where the waves sparkled beneath the golden sunlight. A private infinity pool stretched out on the deck, its surface so still it looked like glass. Every detail of the suite screamed wealth and luxury, from the plush white furniture to the intricate gold accents that adorned the walls. But none of it mattered to me. I didn’t care about the view or the pool or the endless list of amenities. All I wanted was to be alone. Alone so I could finally breathe without the weight of Zander’s judgment pressing down on me like a stone. Alone so I could think clearly, without his presence invading every corner of my mind.
“I’m going for a walk,” I said, my voice steady and even as I grabbed my bag from where it sat on the bed. I didn’t look at him when I spoke. I didn’t need to.
Zander didn’t respond, but I could feel his eyes on me, sharp and piercing like daggers. I didn’t have to see his face to know what he was thinking. He didn’t trust me. He never trusted me. To him, I was a flight risk, a pawn he had to keep under constant watch. But I didn’t care. Let him stew in his paranoia. Let him overthink every step I took. I wasn’t going to let his suspicion stop me from finding a moment of peace, however fleeting it might be.
I made my way through the resort, my steps quick and purposeful as I tried to outrun the storm of emotions swirling inside me. The path was lined with lush greenery, flowers blooming in vibrant colors on either side, their sweet scent filling the air. In the distance, I could hear the soft crash of waves against the shore, a sound that should have been soothing but wasn’t. I didn’t stop until I reached the lounge, a sleek open-air space overlooking the ocean. My chest ached with the weight of everything I was carrying, but I hoped-desperately-that I could find some solace here, even if just for a moment.
But instead of peace, I found something unexpected. Or rather, someone unexpected.
Alpha Asher.
He was standing near the bar, his broad shoulders relaxed but commanding, his presence impossible to ignore. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been out in the wind, and his sharp gray eyes scanned the room with an intensity that made my stomach twist. He carried himself with an air of power, but it wasn’t the overbearing, suffocating kind that Zander wielded like a weapon. It was quieter, subtler, but no less impactful.
For a moment, I just stood there, frozen in place, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched him. What was he doing here? Why was he at this resort, of all places? And why, despite everything, did the sight of him make me feel something I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever? Hope.
The sight of him sent an electric jolt through my entire body, one I wasn’t prepared for. He stood near the bar, his tall, imposing frame naturally commanding attention without even trying. He didn’t need to say a word; his presence alone was enough to draw the gaze of everyone in the room. His dark, piercing eyes scanned the lounge with an air of confidence, calm and unbothered, as if he owned the space. And then, suddenly, those eyes landed on me. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I froze, rooted to the spot, as a whirlwind of emotions and memories swirled in my mind. The stories Zander had told me about him came rushing back, each one more vivid than the last. Asher-the name that carried so much weight. Zander’s former best friend. Asher, the man who had betrayed him with Lyra, the woman Zander had once trusted. Asher, the reason Zander had built walls so high and unbreakable that even I couldn’t get through to him.
But despite everything I’d been told, there was something about the way Asher looked at me that unsettled me in a way I couldn’t explain. His gaze wasn’t harsh or threatening. It wasn’t cold like Zander’s or calculating like so many others I’d encountered. It was calm, steady, and oddly curious, like he was trying to piece me together. There was a flicker of something in his eyes-amusement, maybe? Recognition? Whatever it was, it made my pulse quicken, my heart thudding unexpectedly against my ribs. It felt as if he could see right through me, as if he already knew the chaos swirling inside my mind without me having to say a word.
“Aria,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, a tone that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. He didn’t raise his voice, but it carried-strong and sure, cutting through the noise of the lounge like a blade.
“Asher,” I replied, my voice steady but polite, the kind of tone people used when they were trying to mask their unease. I forced a polite smile, hoping it was convincing enough to hide the storm of uncertainty brewing inside me.
His lips curved into a slow, deliberate grin, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still held a certain charm. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.
“Likewise,” I replied quickly, keeping my tone light and neutral, though my mind was racing.
But before I could say anything more, I felt it-the familiar, suffocating presence of Zander. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. I could feel him before I saw him, the weight of his presence pressing against my back like a storm cloud rolling in. Of course, he had followed me. He always did. His footsteps were heavy and purposeful, each one echoing with an intensity that made my stomach tighten. When he finally stepped into view, the look on his face was exactly what I had expected: thunderous, dark, and completely unforgiving.
Zander’s jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face visibly tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His cold, steely gaze flicked between me and Asher, and I could practically feel the rage simmering beneath the surface. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know what he was thinking. He hated this-hated the very sight of Asher standing there, hated that I was speaking to him, hated that the man he despised more than anyone else was in the same room as us.
“Asher,” Zander said finally, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. His tone was cold and clipped, each word dripping with disdain. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
“As always, Zander,” Asher replied smoothly, his tone light, almost casual, but there was something sharp and biting just beneath the surface. “Always a pleasure.”
The air between them seemed to crackle with energy, heavy and dangerous, like the moments before a thunderstorm broke loose. The tension was palpable, suffocating, as if the room itself could barely contain the weight of their unresolved history.
Their gazes locked, and in that silent exchange, I could see everything-the anger, the betrayal, the bitterness that had festered between them for years. It was unspoken but obvious, a storm of emotions neither of them could hide.