Chapter 6

ALEX'S POV

It was past two in the morning, and the numbers on my laptop screen had long since blurred into an unreadable mess.

I threw my glasses onto the mahogany desk in the west wing study, rubbing the bridge of my nose. It was useless. For the past three hours, I had tried to review the merger files for Ray Enterprises, but my mind was completely compromised. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Ruby falling into my lap on the jet—the scent of her, the feel of her soft sweater under my palms, and the way her vibrant green eyes had looked at me with that maddening mixture of defiance and vulnerability.

Frustrated with my own lack of control, I ripped off my shirt, shoved my hands into the pockets of my dark trousers, and stepped out onto the balcony to let the cool Mediterranean breeze clear my head.

The estate was silent, the moonlight casting long, silver shadows across the stone terrace below. I let my gaze wander down toward the edge of the cliff where the massive infinity pool seemed to blend seamlessly into the black void of the sea.

And then, my breath caught in my throat.

A ripple broke the glass-like surface of the water. Ruby.

She was swimming a slow, elegant breaststroke under the moonlight. When she reached the edge of the pool, she smoothed her long, wet ginger hair back over her shoulders, the vibrant strands glistening like dark copper in the silver light. She was wearing a simple, high-cut black bikini that left very little to the imagination. The contrast of the dark fabric against her pale, flawless skin was utterly arresting. Every curve of her body—from the soft slope of her waist to the elegant line of her collarbones—was completely exposed to the night air.

Ethereal. The word pounded in my chest again. It was a dangerous, intoxicating sight.

Before my brain could stop my feet, I was walking down the sweeping stone steps of the villa. The cool grass felt sharp beneath my bare feet, but I barely registered it. I stopped just at the edge of the deep end, towering over the water, my hands still shoved casually into my pockets.

Ruby must have heard my footsteps. She turned around, floating effortlessly on her back, her green eyes locking onto mine. A slow, knowing smirk touched her wet lips.

"Well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with that sharp wit I was quickly becoming addicted to. "Look who finally decided to escape the fortress. Did the numbers on your spreadsheets start talking back to you, Alexander?"

"The air was stuffy upstairs," I replied, keeping my tone deliberately even, though my heart was beginning to thud heavily against my ribs. I lowered myself onto the edge of the pool, letting my legs dangle into the cool water, bringing myself closer to her level. "And I see you're ignoring the rules of time zones. It's past two in the morning, Ruby."

"Time zones are for people who actually sleep," she shot back, swimming closer until her arms rested on the marble edge of the pool right beside my knee. She looked up at me, tilting her head, completely unbothered by her state of undress. "And you're one to talk. No shirt, brooding by the water... are you trying to audition for a romance novel, or is this just your standard billionaire-in-exile look?"

A low chuckle escaped my throat. "I don't brood."

"You do," she insisted, her eyes dropping to my bare chest for a fraction of a second before snapping back to my eyes. "You've been brooding since New York. What's the matter, Alex? Is the big, bad billionaire afraid that if he stays in the same room as me for too long, he might actually have a good time?"

My smirk faded, replaced by a sudden, heavy intensity. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, bringing my face mere inches from hers. The scent of chlorinated water and her natural warmth washed over me. "You think you're highly distracting, don't you?"

"I know I am," she whispered defiantly, not backing down an inch.

But as I stared down at her, the dark water rippling around her shoulders, a sudden, suffocating weight pressed down on my chest. The gentle, rhythmic lapping of the pool against the marble edge suddenly sounded distorted. In my mind, the clear blue water of the Mediterranean momentarily shifted, replaced by the memory of a roaring, violent current. The sound of laughter that was suddenly cut short. A tiny hand slipping away beneath a dark, unforgiving surface.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. My breath hitched, a familiar, paralyzing panic clawing at my throat. Water. It takes everything.

"Alex?"

Ruby's voice shattered the memory. The teasing mockery was gone from her face, replaced by a look of genuine concern. She reached out, her cool, wet fingers gently brushing against my ankle. "Hey. You completely went somewhere else just now. Are you okay?"

I forced my jaw to unclench, pulling myself back from the edge of the abyss with pure willpower. I smoothly withdrew my leg from the water, standing up to full height to re-establish my distance. "I'm fine. Just tired." I cleared my throat, forcing the cold mask back onto my face. "Don't stay out here too long. We have a brunch to attend in Nice tomorrow at eleven, and the host is someone I particularly despise. I need you sharp."

Ruby blinked up at me, sensing the sudden shift but choosing not to press it. Her sharp wit returned, though it was softer this time. "Don't worry, billionaire. I'm always sharp. Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight, Ruby," I murmured, turning on my heel and walking back to the safety of my empty room, the ghost of her cool fingers still burning against my skin.

The next morning, the French sun was blindingly bright as our private car pulled up to the breathtaking Chateau de Valois, a sprawling estate perched high on the hills overlooking Nice.

This wasn't just a casual brunch; it was the annual European Charity Gala, hosted by none other than Julian Vance. The Vance family owned a massive global shipping conglomerate, and Julian had been my primary rival since our Ivy League days. He was old money, wildly arrogant, and possessed a unique talent for finding a person's weakest point and driving a knife into it.

As the chauffeur opened the door, I turned to Ruby. She was an absolute vision. She wore an emerald green, tailored silk midi dress that complemented her vibrant hair perfectly, paired with gold stilettos. Her appearance was flawless, a perfect representation of a high-society billionaire's wife.

"Remember," I murmured, leaning close to her ear so the trailing photographers would think I was whispering sweet nothings. "Smile for the cameras. Hold my arm. Let me handle Julian. He's a parasite."

Ruby offered a dazzling, fake smile to a flashing camera lens before cutting her eyes to me. "Please, Alex. I survived New York high society elites trying to step on my family for years. I can handle a French parasite."

We slipped into the grand courtyard, immediately swarmed by European aristocrats and wealthy heirs. The atmosphere was dripping with Gossip Girl style tension—smiling faces, expensive champagne, and whispered daggers behind laced fans.

"Alexander! As I live and breathe," a slick, condescending voice called out.

Julian Vance walked toward us, a smirk plastered across his tanned face. He was dressed in a pristine white linen suit, a glass of expensive vintage wine in hand. His dark eyes immediately scanned me before dropping to Ruby, a predatory gleam flashing in them.

"Julian," I said coldly, extending a brief, rigid handshake. "Lovely event."

"Only the best for the Riviera," Julian chuckled, his eyes locking onto Ruby. "And this must be the new Mrs. Ray. The lovely Ruby Bells. Or... should I say, the savior of Bells Oil?" He took her hand, kissing the back of it for a second too long. "The news of your father's sudden financial collapse reached all the way to France, darling. I must say, Alexander, I didn't think you were the charitable type to take on a charity case as a wife."

A deadly fury flared in my gut. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. I stepped forward to put Julian in his place, but before I could utter a single word, Ruby smoothly stepped into my line of sight.

She didn't look angry. In fact, she smiled—an elegant, devastatingly beautiful smile that radiated pure high-society royalty.

"Oh, Mr. Vance, how delightfully charming of you to be so concerned with our family's portfolio," Ruby said, her voice smooth, clear, and perfectly modulated to carry across the immediate circle of elites who had stopped to listen. "But I assure you, it wasn't charity. Alexander simply recognizes a priceless asset when he sees one. After all, Bells Oil still controls the primary shipping lines in the North Atlantic—the very same lines your family's company has been begging to lease for the last three quarters, isn't that right?"

Julian's smug smile instantly faltered. His eyes widened slightly as the surrounding aristocrats began to whisper and chuckle behind their hands.

Ruby didn't stop there. She took a slow sip of her champagne, her green eyes piercing right through him. "It must be so exhausting for you, hosting these massive, expensive galas just to get Alexander's attention. Next time, if you need a business favor, you can just have your secretary call his assistant. There's really no need to spend millions on a brunch just to get a word in with the Rays."

A heavy, stunned silence fell over the courtyard. Julian's face turned a violent, embarrassed shade of crimson. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He had been completely, elegantly silenced in front of his entire social circle.

A fierce, overwhelming surge of pride and unadulterated possessiveness slammed into my chest. I looked down at my wife, completely captivated. God, she is magnificent.

I smoothly wrapped my hand around Ruby's waist, pulling her flush against my side, deliberately marking my territory. "You heard my wife, Julian. Enjoy your brunch."

Without giving him a second glance, I guided Ruby away through the crowd. The moment we were out of earshot, I leaned down, my breath brushing against her neck. "A priceless asset, huh?"

Ruby glanced up at me, a victorious, playful spark in her green eyes. "I told you, billionaire. I'm always sharp. Now, get me a real drink before I have to insult anyone else."