104-
Zander POV
I watch from the deck, as Ivan swims in the crystal clear blue waters, looking like a siren.
It's ridiculous, really. The sunlight hits his skin in just the right way, water glistening down his shoulders as he floats lazily, kicking a little to stay afloat.
How am I supposed to ask a life-changing question when he looks like that?
I lean against the railing, chin in hand.
My heart is thundering in my chest again.
I'm a Vale. I've negotiated billion-dollar deals. Taken down corrupt competitors. Scared men three times my size.
And yet, one twenty-four-year-old omega has me reduced to this shaking mess of nerves.
I sigh.
"Zander!" Ivan calls up from the water, waving at me.
"Are you coming in or just staring at me all day?"
I smile, warmth blooming in my chest despite myself.
"Give me a second, my siren."
I grab a towel and head down the small ladder at the back of the yacht. The water's cold against my skin when I dive in, but nothing wakes you up like being surrounded by blue on all sides, Ivan grinning just a few feet away.
"Finally," he teases, splashing water at me. "I thought my alpha was going to be a boring old man and leave me alone."
"You know I can't resist you."
He swims closer, circling around me, fingertips brushing my arm underwater. My pulse jumps. Not now, I tell myself. Not while I'm wet, half-naked, and about to lose my head.
We swim for a while—playful, laughing. Ivan ducks under and tugs at my hair just to mess with me, surfacing with a victorious grin.
He's perfect.
And I'm hopeless.
*
Later, wrapped in towels, we lie together on the lounge bed on the deck.
The sun is warm. The waves gentle.
Ivan is half-asleep against me, his hair damp, little droplets clinging to his lashes.
My fingers toy idly with the edge of my towel, where—hidden inside—sits the ring box.
It would be perfect. Quiet. Just us. No pressure.
I could wake him, cup his face, tell him everything in my chest.
And yet—
Looking at him like this, so soft, so trusting, I freeze.
What if it's too soon?
What if he says no?
What if I ruin this?
I exhale through my nose. Not yet.
Tonight. Over dinner. I'll ask tonight.
*
I go all out.
Ivan loves my pasta—so I cook that. A proper sauce from scratch, garlic bread, fresh salad. I set up the deck with candles, low music playing in the background. The stars are already starting to peek out.
By the time he emerges, hair dry, wearing one of those light, loose shirts he stole from my closet, I'm done for.
"How romantic," Ivan says, sliding into the seat with a smile.
"You trying to seduce me, Mr. Vale?"
"Always," I say, but my voice cracks a little.
And of course, Ivan notices. His green eyes narrow ever so slightly. He rests his chin on his hand and watches me as I pour the wine, as I try to act normal through dinner.
But I can barely eat. I can't taste anything. My heart is pounding in my ears.
The ring feels like a boulder in my pocket now.
"Zander," Ivan says softly after a while, voice sweet but knowing.
"You're fidgety."
"I'm fine."
He tilts his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sure."
I glare at my plate.
I can't do it.
Not tonight.
I can't even meet his eyes without my chest threatening to cave in.
I'm going to ruin this dinner if I try.
When we clear the plates, Ivan lets out a sigh, stretching his arms behind his head, utterly at ease.
"Well," he says. "Lovely meal. Now, shall we go inside?"
I stand and offer my hand.
"Inside sounds good."
I'll try again tomorrow.
Tonight... I'll hold him close and pretend this knot in my throat doesn't exist.