Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oɱɳιʂƈιҽɳƚ OƈƚσႦҽɾ 8ƚԋ Kαυαι, Hαɯαιι
The gentle crash of waves filled the room as Ivory lay sprawled across the crisp, white sheets, her legs tangled with Xaier's. The open balcony of X's beach house let in a warm Hawaiian breeze, carrying the scent of saltwater and hibiscus, and the sun bathed their naked bodies in a soft glow.
Xaier's arm was draped over her waist, his fingers idle on the bare skin of her hip and his mouth, once again latched on to her nipple as he slept and she stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts spiraling back over the past few weeks.
It had been a whirlwind of chaos and survival. In the wake of Jayce's death, Ivory had played her part to perfection, crying crocodile tears for the press, attending memorials, and painting the image of a grieving widow. Trying to look embody the role as much as she could so no one would suspect she was responsible for Jayce's death.
She hated every second of it, but it was necessary to keep her name in the clear. Every fake sob, every trembling word in front of the cameras had been calculated. The world mourned her "loss," while she secretly celebrated her freedom with the man she loved.
Through it all, Ivory had remained resilient. As Jayce's wife, she'd gained access to his fortune and properties after his death. The first thing she'd done? Was claim ownership of her art gallery—her sanctuary—and began to make plans to rebuild it in New York, now that she didn't have to stay in Los Angeles anymore. But, she still wanted to build another there too, just to help her employees out.
With his money, Ivy envisioned something much bigger, something freer, a space that would finally reflect the woman she was becoming and not something given to her as part of blackmail.
Her newfound independence wasn't just limited to the gallery either. With the information she had, Ivory also tipped off the FBI about Jayce's trafficking network, providing enough information to take down the key players that worked with Jayce. The arrests had been swift too, and Ivory reveled in justice.
For every girl who'd been stolen, for every family torn apart, she'd made sure Jayce's empire was destroyed. He may have gotten away with it for years, but he wasn't escaping the wrath of the law now, even in death, she didn't give a fuck. She hoped he'd never find peace wherever he was.
Xaier stirred softly beside her, slowly waking up, his deep voice pulling her out of her thoughts. "Yo titties growing." he commented lowly, licking the nipple he was just latched onto.
Ivory giggled, her eyes softening up as they met his. He'd been her rock through all of this—steady, unwavering, and so much more affectionate than she could've imagined. He was the reason she'd made it through these past brutal weeks without falling apart.
Ivy couldn't help but notice the shift in Xaier since the moment he'd finally admitted he loved her. It was as if a dam had broken, letting emotions he'd kept locked away flood freely. He was more affectionate now, his touches lingering longer, his kisses softer, and his words filled with a warmth she hadn't experienced from him before.
