Chapter 1 : “It’s a tradition for a groom to carry his bride,”

After a month of touring across Asia—five countries, countless flights, and more breathtaking sunsets than they could count—Javier and Ella Summers were finally home. From the neon dazzle of Tokyo’s Shibuya Crossing to the misty rice terraces of Bali, from the spice-laden air of India to the sunlit shores of the Philippines, and finally the historical splendor of China, they had lived a dream together. And now, that dream had left them both deeply content… and utterly exhausted.

Still, that didn’t stop Javier from sweeping Ella up into his arms the moment they stepped through their front door.

“You’ve done this every time we arrived at a new hotel,” Ella protested lightly, her tone caught somewhere between amusement and fatigue. She tried to sound annoyed, but the gentle sparkle in her tired eyes betrayed her. “You really don’t have to do it again, Javier.”

“It’s tradition for a groom to carry his bride,” he replied with mock solemnity. His voice, low and warm, carried that teasing charm she had fallen in love with. Before setting her down, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to feel her smile against his chest. “Besides,” he added, “I’ll never get tired of holding you close.”

“Whatever floats your boat, dear husband,” she said, shaking her head and laughing softly as her feet touched the cool marble floor.

They wandered deeper into their home, the comforting scent of polished wood and jasmine from the garden welcoming them back. Pedro, their ever-loyal butler, was already in command of the situation—directing two staff members who carried in what looked like an entire mountain of luggage.

“Just place the suitcases in front of our room upstairs, Pedro. The rest can stay down here,” Javier instructed with a faint frown.

Only now did he fully realize how much they’d accumulated during their travels. Dozens of shopping bags, souvenirs, and packages—each one carrying a story. Every time Ella had found a gift for someone—Clarabelle, Autumn, Jessica, Nathan—her eyes had lit up in pure delight. Watching her happiness had made Javier’s heart swell, and he hadn’t cared in the slightest about the growing pile of luggage.

Once the staff departed, he joined Ella on the couch, the soft leather sighing beneath their weight. He took her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before giving it a loving squeeze.

“How are you feeling, Miss Stanford?” he asked with a smirk that told her he was up to something.

“Mrs. Summers, if you please,” she corrected, mock-prim, the corners of her lips curving upward. “Tired, mostly.” A soft laugh escaped her. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

He looked at her with feigned innocence, his baby-blue eyes widening just slightly. “Did what exactly? I’ve been nothing but a devoted husband.”

“Well, my husband,” she said, putting exaggerated emphasis on the word as she leaned closer, “I’m talking about you managing to track down my ancestor in China. That was incredible.”

Her voice softened as she spoke. “I’ve always known my mum was mixed race, that my grandmother was Chinese and left for a better life in the States—but I knew nothing about my ancestors back in China. I couldn’t even speak a word of Mandarin.” She reached up, her fingers caressing the tanned skin of his cheek, still kissed bronze by the Balinese sun. “Truly, thank you. It means so much to me.”

“You’re most welcome.” Javier’s reply was tender, his thumb brushing along the back of her hand before he leaned forward to kiss her forehead again. “I’m just glad it made you happy.”

A sly grin tugged at his lips. “And finally, a surprise you actually appreciated. That alone is a miracle.”

Ella laughed—an easy, genuine sound that filled the room like sunlight. It had taken time for them to reach this point, where teasing came as naturally as breathing. They’d weathered storms together, and she wanted him to know how much peace she’d finally found.

“You know,” she said softly, laying her hand over his, “I’m glad you tracked down my dad. I know I blamed you for it at first, but only because I didn’t want to admit how much I missed him. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be in the dark—living with half-truths and old wounds.” Her expression brightened, the tension in her shoulders easing. “And because of that, I met Jessica and Nathan. I finally have siblings.”

Javier’s chest warmed at her words. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, the corners of his mouth lifting. He’d known since the moment he realized he loved her that he would do anything for her—and now, as her husband, that promise felt sacred.

“You should probably mention Clarabelle,” he teased, tapping her nose with his finger. “You know she’d be jealous if you left her out.”

Ella tried, and failed, to suppress her laughter. “Of course, she counts too.”

“Judging by the mountain of gifts you bought for her—and the ones she asked you to buy—I should start charging her,” Javier joked, though his tone carried nothing but affection.

“I just can’t wait until she tries the kimono I got her from that little shop near the—”

Her sentence was abruptly cut off by the sharp trill of Javier’s ringtone.

He groaned softly, reaching into his pocket.

“Ah, speak of the little devil herself,” he muttered with a smirk, flashing the screen to Ella before tapping accept and putting the phone on speaker. “You’re on speaker, Clara. What’s up?”

“Ella! How are you, sweetheart? Are you home yet? You must be exhausted after all that traveling,” Clarabelle’s cheerful voice rang through the living room, energetic as ever. “Listen, I have the perfect idea to fix that—spa day at my place! My masseuse can be here in an hour. Unlike my dear brother, I actually have a massage room at home.”

Javier rolled his eyes. “No hello to your favorite brother?”

Clarabelle’s laugh came through bright and unapologetic. “You’ll be thrilled to know that you’ve officially dropped to number five on my list of favorite brothers. Not even top three anymore.”

Javier sat up straighter, mock offense flickering across his face. “Fifth? I was fourth last time! Who replaced me?” His tone was almost comically serious for a thirty-three-year-old CEO.

“You can thank Draven,” she replied airily, probably with that trademark shrug Ella could already picture.

“Draven?!” Javier’s eyes widened. “How the hell did he climb up to fourth so fast?”

In truth, though he acted affronted, Javier couldn’t help but feel relieved. It meant his sister was finally on better terms with Draven after everything that had happened. The last time they’d all seen each other, Clarabelle and Draven had been locked in a tense dance between forgiveness and pride.

“He’s redeemed himself,” Clarabelle declared matter-of-factly, her tone brisk. “Anyway—excuse you, Brother—but I was talking to Ella. So, my dear sister-in-law, are you coming over for that spa day or not?”

Ella smiled softly, her voice carrying that familiar warmth. “It sounds wonderful, Clara, but I’m honestly too tired to move right now. I might have to take a rain check.”

Clarabelle made a dramatic noise of disbelief. “You have to come. Trust me—my masseuse has magic hands. He’ll melt every knot out of your back and make you feel like a new woman.”

“He?!” Javier and Ella exclaimed at the same time, glancing at each other before both turned toward the phone with synchronized raised eyebrows.

Clarabelle sighed. “Oh, come on. You two sound just like Dean. He freaks out every time I say my masseuse is a guy. I told him—multiple times—that he’s only penetrating my muscles with his hands!”

“Clarabelle,” Javier groaned, dragging a hand over his face, though Ella could see the corner of his mouth twitching.

“I’m fine with it,” he said after a pause, his tone even but his jaw tight. “As long as Ella’s comfortable.”

Inside, however, the image alone made his stomach tighten. The thought of anyone else’s hands on her skin—it was a test of will. But he swallowed it down. Ella’s comfort came first. Always.

“I appreciate the offer,” Ella said gently, biting her lip with a trace of guilt. “But I’d prefer not to. I’m not exactly comfortable with a male masseuse. You go enjoy it, though. You deserve the pampering.”

Clarabelle sighed but didn’t push. “Alright, alright. Have it your way. At least promise me you’ll rest for a few days. No running back to work yet—you both need to recover. Work can wait!”

“You don’t have to yell, you’re on speaker,” Javier said dryly, though his lips quirked in amusement.

“I’m just making sure my brother hears it loud and clear,” Clarabelle retorted. “Ros and I can handle things while you two play honeymooners for a few more days.”

Javier grunted, leaning back into the couch. “Got it, got it.” He was itching to check in on his company, but Ella’s peaceful expression reminded him of what truly mattered. He’d wanted to stop by the office straight from the airport, but one look at her tired face had been enough to change his mind. His sister knew him too well.

“Anyway,” Clarabelle said breezily, “I’m off to lunch with Brett before my massage. Get some rest, both of you!”

“You should come by tomorrow,” Ella offered. “We can have breakfast—or brunch, if you sleep in.”

“I’ll text you!” Clarabelle replied, her voice turning mock-serious. “And Jave, I mean it. If I see you anywhere near the office, I’ll have security throw you out.”

“Love you too, Clara,” Javier muttered, ending the call. He tossed his phone onto the couch beside him; it slipped between two cushions and disappeared from sight.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I still don’t know how she manages to juggle two men. It’s exhausting just thinking about it.”

Ella chuckled softly, resting a hand on his arm. “Clarabelle’s a strong, independent woman, Jiev. You’ve got to let her find her own way.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet now, the frown lingering between his brows. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’ll call if she needs you,” Ella assured him, giving his hand a tender squeeze. “You’ve taught her to stand tall, but she knows you’ll catch her if she falls.”

Javier breathed out slowly, then rose to his feet and extended both hands toward her. “Alright. Come with me.”

She arched a brow, teasing. “Why? It’s barely noon.”

He grinned, that playful spark back in his eyes. “Because I’m about to show you just how magical my hands can be.”

Ella burst out laughing, her laughter bubbling up like music. “Oh, God, Javier…”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’m talking about a massage, Mrs. Summers. I’ve got essential oils upstairs that’ll make you melt. And afterward,” he added with a conspiratorial wink, “we’ll take a dip in the hot tub.”

Her smile softened into something tender and eager. “That sounds perfect.”

So once again, despite her earlier protests, Ella allowed herself to be swept up into his arms. Bridal style. Laughing, she looped her arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs, their laughter echoing faintly through the quiet house.

Neither of them noticed the faint buzzing from the couch below—the phone vibrating insistently beneath the cushions. Dozens of missed calls. Multiple texts.

Something big had just happened.