Morning sunlight streams through the windows of the Hamptons estate, casting golden patterns across the bed where I slowly wake to an unfamiliar sensation—Ethan's arm draped protectively around my waist, his steady breathing warm against my neck.

Last night, after our moonlit walk and those transformative kisses on the beach, we'd returned to our suite still maintaining the pretense of separate sleeping arrangements. But sometime in the early hours, after checking on Leo, Ethan had appeared in the doorway of my room, asking without words if he could join me. Not for passion—though the desire between us was palpable—but for the simple intimacy of sleeping beside each other.


I had lifted the covers in silent invitation, and he had slipped in beside me, gathering me against his chest as if we'd been sleeping this way for years instead of hours. We'd fallen asleep that way, my head tucked under his chin, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against my cheek.

Now, in the clear light of morning, I study his sleeping face—the dark sweep of lashes against his cheeks, the slight stubble darkening his jaw, the relaxed set of his mouth usually so controlled in waking hours. He looks younger in sleep, unburdened by the responsibilities of running a global empire or navigating our complicated relationship.

As if sensing my scrutiny, Ethan's eyes flutter open, blue and disoriented for a moment before focusing on me with warming recognition.


"Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," I reply, suddenly self-conscious about my appearance—tousled hair, no makeup, vulnerable in ways I rarely allow myself to be.


His fingers trace the curve of my cheek, a touch so gentle it makes my breath catch. "You're beautiful in the morning," he says, as if reading my thoughts. "All soft edges and warm skin."

Before I can respond, the door to my room bursts open and Leo bounds in, already fully dressed and vibrating with excitement.

"Mommy! Daddy! Wake up! Grandma Vivienne says we're going sailing today and I need to learn the ropes which is funny because there are actual ropes on the boat and—" He stops abruptly, registering the sight of both his parents in the same bed. A slow smile spreads across his face. "You're having a sleepover!"

Ethan chuckles, sitting up against the headboard. "Something like that, buddy. What time is it?"

"Seven thirty-two," Leo announces proudly, clearly having checked the digital clock by his bed. "Grandma says breakfast is ready and we need to eat before the tide changes."

"The tide waits for no man," Ethan agrees solemnly. "Tell Grandma we'll be down in fifteen minutes."

Leo nods importantly and races back out, leaving the door wide open in his wake. Ethan turns to me with a rueful smile. "So much for our private morning."

"Did you really expect privacy with a five-year-old in the house?" I ask, sliding out of bed and reaching for my robe.

"A man can dream," Ethan replies, watching me with undisguised appreciation as I move around the room. "Though I have to admit, seeing you and Leo first thing in the morning... it's a dream I didn't know I had until recently."

The simple admission touches me more deeply than flowery declarations might have. This is Ethan at his most genuine—acknowledging how our arranged family has become something he truly desires.

"We should get ready," I say, deflecting the emotion his words evoke. "Apparently the tide waits for no one, including Knights."

Ethan laughs and rises from the bed, magnificent in just pajama bottoms, his chest and shoulders sculpted by years of swimming and sailing. "Shower's all yours," he offers. "I'll use the one in my room."

As he passes me on his way out, he pauses to drop a kiss on my forehead—casual, domestic, as if we've been doing this for years. The gesture leaves me momentarily frozen, overwhelmed by how natural this feels and how dangerous that naturalness is to my carefully constructed plans.

Because despite the genuine feelings blossoming between us, despite the kisses and shared confidences of last night, nothing has changed the fundamental truth: I came back to New York for revenge, not romance. And Ethan still doesn't know who I really am or why I orchestrated our meeting.

These sobering thoughts follow me into the shower, tempering the warm glow of waking in Ethan's arms. By the time I join the family for breakfast on the terrace, I've regained my equilibrium, my emotional armor back in place.

But it cracks again at the sight that greets me—Leo perched on Ethan's lap, both of them studying a nautical chart spread across the table while Vivienne looks on with undisguised affection. They make such a perfect picture—three generations of Knights, the family Leo deserves to be part of without the complications of my revenge agenda.

"Ah, there she is," Vivienne greets me. "We were just reviewing today's sailing route. Coffee?"

"Please," I accept, taking the seat beside Ethan. "I hear we're at the mercy of the tides."

"Always," Ethan confirms with a smile. "But the forecast is perfect—clear skies, steady breeze, minimal chop. Ideal conditions for Leo's first real sailing experience."

"I'm going to be First Mate," Leo announces proudly. "Daddy says that's a very important job."

"The most important," Ethan agrees seriously. "The Captain relies on his First Mate completely."

The easy way Ethan includes Leo, building his confidence while subtly teaching him responsibility, impresses me yet again. He's a natural father, despite having known his son for such a short time.

Breakfast passes in a flurry of sailing terminology I only partially understand and excited questions from Leo about potential marine life sightings. By the time we head down to the private dock where the Knight family sailboat awaits, I'm feeling slightly overwhelmed by the technical aspects of our planned excursion.

"Don't worry," Ethan murmurs as we walk, his hand warm at the small of my back. "You don't need to know port from starboard to enjoy the day. Just relax and let me handle the sailing."

"I'm not used to letting someone else take control," I admit quietly.

His eyes crinkle with understanding. "I know. It's one of the things I admire about you—your self-sufficiency. But sometimes it's nice to let someone else take the wheel. Literally, in this case."

The boat itself is not what I expected—not a flashy yacht but a classic sloop around thirty feet long, lovingly maintained but clearly designed for actual sailing rather than just looking impressive at the marina.

"Meet Selkie," Ethan introduces, helping Leo step carefully aboard. "My grandfather commissioned her forty years ago, and she's been in the family ever since."

"She's beautiful," I say honestly, admiring the gleaming wood and crisp white sails.

"Daddy says boats are always 'she,'" Leo informs me seriously as Ethan helps me aboard. "Even though they don't have girl parts."

Vivienne's surprised laugh rings out from the dock. "Quite right, Leo. A ship is always a lady, regardless of anatomy."

"I may have oversimplified some sailing traditions," Ethan admits with a grin, helping his mother aboard as well.

What follows is one of the most perfect days I can remember. Once we clear the harbor, Ethan raises the sails and cuts the motor, and Selkie seems to come alive beneath us, responding to the wind like a living creature. Leo is beside himself with excitement, taking his First Mate duties with utmost seriousness as Ethan patiently explains basic sailing concepts.

Vivienne and I sit in the cockpit, enjoying the sun and sea spray as the men in our lives bond over nautical matters.

"He's waited for this his whole life," Vivienne observes, watching Ethan adjust Leo's grip on a rope. "Teaching his son to sail on this boat... it's a Knight family tradition going back three generations."

"Leo's loving every minute," I reply, warmed by my son's obvious joy.

"As is Ethan," Vivienne notes. "I haven't seen him this relaxed in years. Marriage and fatherhood suit him, despite his initial... reservations."

I glance at her sharply. "Reservations?"

Vivienne sips her iced tea, choosing her words carefully. "Ethan has always been cautious about personal commitments. His father's example—prioritizing business success over family connections—left its mark. I think Ethan feared repeating those patterns."

"And now?" I ask, genuinely curious about her assessment.

"Now I see a man who has discovered what truly matters," she says simply. "And is rearranging his priorities accordingly."

Before I can respond to this insight, Leo calls for my attention, proudly showing me how he's helping steer the boat under Ethan's careful supervision. The moment for deeper conversation passes, but Vivienne's words linger in my mind as we continue our sail along the picturesque coastline.

We anchor in a secluded cove for lunch—an elaborate picnic prepared by the estate's chef, complete with chilled white wine for the adults and special treats for Leo. Afterward, Ethan takes Leo for a swim in the protected waters while Vivienne and I watch from the boat.

"He's a remarkable child," Vivienne observes as Leo shrieks with delight when Ethan tosses him gently into the water. "So bright and adaptable. You've done an exceptional job raising him alone."

"Thank you," I reply, genuinely touched by the compliment. "It wasn't always easy, but..."

"But worth every sacrifice," she finishes for me. "I understand. I was effectively a single mother myself for much of Ethan's childhood, with Jonathan always traveling for business."

This revelation surprises me—the elegant, seemingly perfect Vivienne Knight navigating parenthood alone despite her marriage. "That must have been difficult, even with resources."

"Money solves logistical problems, not emotional ones," she says with unexpected candor. "The hardest part was watching Ethan yearn for his father's approval and attention, always coming second to the next deal, the next acquisition."

"Is that why they're so at odds now?" I ask, connecting pieces of the Knight family dynamic.

Vivienne nods, her gaze still on her son and grandson in the water. "Ethan promised himself he'd never be that kind of father—absent, critical, withholding affection except when achievements warranted it. Seeing him with Leo... I know he'll keep that promise."

The conversation shifts to lighter topics as Ethan and Leo return to the boat, but Vivienne's insights stay with me—another layer of understanding about the man I married for convenience but am increasingly drawn to for entirely different reasons.

The sail back to the estate is peaceful, Leo eventually falling asleep in my lap, exhausted from his adventures. Ethan handles the boat with confident ease, occasionally catching my eye with a smile that sends warmth through me despite the cooling afternoon breeze.