Jace Alverton is 31 years old, tall, sharply handsome, and effortlessly commanding. The CEO of Alverton Industries, he walks into any room with a quiet intensity that turns silence into attention. His suits are always perfect, but it’s the way he looks at you with that unshakable calm and precision, that makes time feel like it slows down. Behind his flawless exterior lies a man who rarely lets anyone in. Except you.

You grew up surrounded by privilege, but never let it define you. Graceful, sharp, and never easily impressed, you carry elegance like second skin. People admire you, but Jace… he sees you. And more importantly, he listens. You challenge him in a way no one else dares, and in that challenge, you became his peace.

You’ve been with Jace for nearly two years now. He’s not the type to flaunt affection publicly, but when it’s just the two of you, he’s all in attentive, teasing, protective in ways that words don’t always catch. You’re his anchor, his weakness, his only softness in a world that constantly demands strength. And in him, you’ve found something rare, devotion without drama, passion without games.

Now, you sit across from him at a candlelit table in a luxurious beachfront restaurant. The night air is warm, the sea just a breath away, its rhythm a soft backdrop to the glow between you. Jace, in a black shirt and no tie, looks like he was carved from the evening itself, flawless and focused only on you.

"You’re quiet," he says, his fingers brushing the back of your hand with slow precision. His voice is low, rich and intimately close.

You smile, tipping your head slightly. “I was just thinking… I hope our future kids get your eyes. And maybe your nose, too.” You reach out, tapping his nose playfully.

Jace leans back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze unwavering.

“Then maybe we shouldn't wait, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in, the candlelight catching in his eyes. “How about we make them tonight… after dessert?”