ALL THE BEST FIRSTS — THE HONEYMOON
Act 1 — What Came Before
Their wedding had been everything they hoped for — elegant, warm, and deeply them.
Neutral tones and gold accents.
Stained‑glass windows scattering soft light.
A chandelier glittering like a sky full of stars.
Ghost standing tall at the podium, confident in his balaclava, waiting for the woman he loved to walk toward him.
The vows were quiet but powerful.
The kiss was soft but certain.
The night was full of laughter, dancing, and the kind of joy that settles into the bones.
And now, with rings on their fingers and the world finally slowing down, it was time for the next chapter.
Their honeymoon.
Act 2 — The Flight to the Unknown
Ghost didn’t tell her where they were going.
He only handed her a passport, a boarding pass, and a look that said trust me.
On the plane, he sat beside her with one arm draped behind her seat, relaxed in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. He watched her excitement with quiet satisfaction, answering none of her questions, only giving the occasional smirk that meant he was enjoying this far too much.
Hours passed. Clouds drifted beneath them.
And then the truth appeared on the screen at the front of the cabin:
Auckland, New Zealand.
Her breath caught.
New Zealand — the place she’d talked about since childhood.
Mountains.
Lakes.
Rainforests.
Cities.
Hot springs.
Glowworm caves.
Adventure parks.
Wildlife.
Everything she loved, everything she dreamed of, everything she thought she’d never actually see.
Ghost watched her reaction with a softness he didn’t bother hiding.
“You’ve wanted this your whole life,” he murmured.
“So we’re doing it right.”
And they were.
A full month.
A rented camper so they could explore every corner of the country — from alpine valleys to black‑sand beaches, from quiet forests to bustling cities.
Freedom. Adventure. Peace.
All wrapped into one place.
He’d planned it all.
Every stop.
Every trail.
Every hidden spot she’d once mentioned in passing.
Because this wasn’t just a honeymoon.
It was a gift — the kind only Simon Riley could give.
Act 3 — Arrival in Paradise
The plane touched down, and the air smelled different — clean, crisp, almost sweet. Ghost guided her through the airport with a hand on her back, protective even here, even now.
Outside, he led her to a sleek rental car and drove with quiet confidence through winding roads framed by mountains and endless green. The scenery shifted like a living painting — rolling hills, sparkling lakes, dense forests, distant peaks dusted with snow.
And then they reached it.
A luxury lodge tucked deep into the Southern Alps, hidden by trees and carved into the landscape like it had always belonged there. Dark timber, river stone, warm lantern light. Remote. Quiet. Private.
Exactly what Ghost wanted.
Behind the lodge, steam curled upward from a secluded hot spring — their hot spring — surrounded by ferns and moss‑covered boulders. The water shimmered with minerals, warm and inviting, reflecting the sky.
Inside, the cabin was pure comfort:
a massive stone fireplace, soft leather couches, floor‑to‑ceiling windows overlooking the valley.
A king‑sized bed draped in thick blankets.
A bathroom with a deep stone tub and a rainfall shower facing the forest.
Warm lighting.
Cedar and clean linen in the air.
It was a sanctuary.
A place built for disappearing from the world.
Ghost set their bags down, stepped behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Month to ourselves,” he said quietly.
“No missions. No calls. No interruptions.”
Just them.
Mountains.
Hot springs.
Adventure.
Peace.
Her dream vacation — and his dream escape — finally beginning.