She didn't ask permission. She just walked across that beach, heels off, head high, sat down right in his lap, looked him dead in the eyes, and said four words that changed everything. Kiss me. My ex is watching. Malcolm Carter didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't say a single word.
Because the woman sitting on his lap wasn't just any woman. She was Vivian Sinclair, a billiondoll CEO. And she had never once looked at him like that before. But here's what nobody on that beach knew. What Viven did next.
Wasn't really about her ex at all. Malcolm Carter had a rule. He didn't bring drama to the beach. He'd earned that rule the hard way. Six years of early mornings, late nights, school lunches packed at 5:00 a.m. Contracts signed at kitchen tables, and bedtime prayers said in a voice that tried hard not to shake.
6 years of being both mama and daddy to a boy who deserved the whole world and was getting it slowly, piece by piece, from a man who was running on faith and very little sleep. So when his buddy Jerome called him two weeks ago and said, "Malcolm, I booked a suite at the resort in Hilton Head." "You and Jaden are coming and I don't want to hear no argument." Malcolm almost said no. Almost.
Then Jaden looked up from his cereal bowl with those big brown eyes, eyes that looked exactly like his mother's, and said, "Dad, we never go anywhere." And that was that. So, here he was. Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Labor Day weekend.
Blue sky so wide it made your chest ache just looking at it. Salt air thick enough to taste. White sand warm under his feet. And Jaden, 10 years old and fearless, already sprinting toward the water like the ocean owed him something personal. Malcolm sat back in his beach chair, arms crossed, watching the boy run.
This This was why you kept going. He'd brought a book. Hadn't opened it. That was fine. He was content to just sit there listening to the waves, watching Jaden splash and holler and make friends with three other kids inside of 4 minutes like only a child can do.
Malcolm smiled to himself, took a slow sip of his sweet tea, let the tension in his shoulders drop for the first time in what felt like months. Jerome appeared from behind him, handing him a fresh cup, sunglasses on, loud Hawaiian shirt doing absolutely nothing for his image. "You look like a man who finally remembered he's allowed to breathe," Jerome said, dropping into the chair beside him. "Don't make it weird," Malcolm said. "I'm serious, man.
You've been running on empty since February. You needed this." Jaden needed this. Malcolm Jerome gave him a long look. What about what you need?
Malcolm didn't answer that. He never answered that. He'd gotten very good at changing the subject or going quiet until the question disappeared. Jerome knew him well enough to let it go. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the beach fill up.
Families with umbrellas and coolers, kids with boogie boards, a couple of old men playing cards at a folding table like they own the shoreline. It was Jerome who spotted her first. Is that? He sat up straighter. Is that Vivien Sinclair?