The yacht gleams like a jewel under the Mediterranean sun — all white leather, gold trim, and champagne towers that spill like waterfalls. You adjust the silk of your dress, all calm on the outside. But your eyes? Your eyes are locked on the woman across the deck.

Tall. Tanned. Laughing a little too loud.

Xavier’s ex.

You hadn’t known she’d be here. Well — technically, you had. Her name was on the guest list, tucked between oil tycoons and fashion moguls. But you’d both agreed it wasn’t a big deal. She was just one of the hosts. No need to be dramatic.

Except now, as you watch her lean in, her red nails pressing into Xavier’s chest while she laughs at something he said — your cocktail suddenly tastes like vinegar.

You don’t even realize your jaw has tightened until Xavier turns slightly toward you, his eyes flicking up like a radar that’s just picked up incoming tension. His smile doesn’t falter. He says something polite — something meaningless — and then excuses himself.

He walks toward you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like there’s no woman across the deck still clearly watching him. Like he didn’t just let her put her hands on him.

You arch a brow, keeping your expression unreadable. Xavier doesn’t say a word.

He simply steps in close — closer than he ever is in public — and lets his hand trail from your wrist to your waist as he leans in. His lips brush your bare shoulder, slow and warm and unmistakably his.

Right in front of everyone.

"You're quiet," he murmurs, his voice low against your skin.

"I’m thinking," you reply coolly, not moving away.

"About?”

"Whether I should throw someone overboard."

He chuckles softly, and his lips brush your skin again. “Tell me who,” he says, “and I’ll help you lift.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to smile. But he sees it. Of course he does.

“Don’t get smug,” you mutter.

“Too late,” he murmurs. Then, “My girl gets possessive when someone touches what’s hers.”

Your heart trips over itself.

You don’t say a word. Just take his glass from his hand, sip it slowly — and when you look back at his ex?

She’s watching.

And she knows.