Lynn's POV
Night falls over the yacht, the sky turning from orange to deep purple to black. The reception dinner ends, guests drifting from the formal dining area to the main deck lounge where music pulses and champagne flows endlessly.
Charles is on his third—or fourth—glass of whiskey. His face is flushed, eyes bright with alcohol and something darker. He keeps touching me—hand on my waist, fingers trailing down my arm, lips brushing my temple.
Playing the devoted husband.
I lean into him, playing my part perfectly. The blushing bride. The woman who came back for love.
"Charles," I say softly, close to his ear. "I have something special for you. A gift. But it's private—I want to give it to you alone."
His eyes light up. "Yeah? What kind of gift?"
"A surprise. Come with me." I tak
