As dawn broke, golden rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, stirring Vivie from her peaceful slumber. A soft yawn escaped her lips as she stretched, the events of the previous night still lingering in her mind. She pushed the covers aside and padded toward the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath her feet sending a small shiver up her spine. The warm water cascaded down her body, washing away the remnants of sleep. She lingered under the spray, her mind a haze of thoughts, memories, and feelings she wasn’t quite ready to analyze.

Wrapped in nothing but a plush white towel, she emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, and found Ashton standing by the window, his broad back facing her. The sunlight illuminated the sharp angles of his body, casting long shadows across the room. At the sound of the door creaking, he turned around, and his dark eyes immediately darkened with something primal.

His gaze traveled over her damp skin, lingering on the drops of water that trickled down her collarbone. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring slightly, and Vivie noticed the way his hands curled into fists, his entire body rigid with restraint. He took slow, measured steps toward her, his eyes never leaving her form. She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the towel, suddenly hyperaware of how little she was wearing.

Before she could react, he was in front of her, one hand gripping the back of her neck as his lips crashed onto hers. The sheer intensity of the kiss stole her breath away. His other hand splayed against her lower back, pulling her flush against him. A soft gasp escaped her lips when he bit down on her lower lip, his tongue slipping past the seam of her mouth to claim her completely. His touch, his scent, his presence—it consumed her.

Her hands instinctively reached for his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tracing the edges of her towel, a silent promise of what was to come. He tugged slightly, the knot loosening under his touch. Just as he was about to rip it away, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. The insistent vibration shattered the moment, breaking the heated trance they were caught in. Ashton let out a frustrated groan, resting his forehead against hers as he exhaled heavily.

His jaw clenched as he grabbed the phone, answering the call with a sharp, "What?"

A pause. His expression hardened, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"They're here?" His voice was laced with irritation. His grip on the phone tightened. "What the fuck do they want?"

Vivie watched as his entire demeanor shifted. The warmth from moments ago had disappeared, replaced by the cold, ruthless man he often became in moments of anger. He ended the call abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Without another word, he strode out of the room, leaving Vivie standing there, still reeling from what had just happened.

Curious, she quickly dressed and followed him downstairs. As she reached the grand living room, she saw him standing in front of a group of well-dressed individuals—his family. The tension in the room was suffocating. Ashton stood tall, his face unreadable, but the sheer iciness in his gaze was enough to make anyone shudder. His family members sat stiffly, their expressions a mixture of discomfort and determination.

"Why the hell are you here?" Ashton snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I thought I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with any of you."

An older man, whom Vivie assumed was his father, cleared his throat. "We didn’t come here to fight, Ashton. Your sister’s baby shower is coming up, and we thought—"

"I don’t give a damn about it," Ashton interrupted coldly, crossing his arms. "I don’t see why I should care about a family that never gave a shit about me."

A woman, his mother perhaps, let out a weary sigh. "Ashton, please. She’s your sister. She wants you there."

"Then she should have called me herself," Ashton countered. "Not send you all like fucking messengers."

Vivie observed quietly from the staircase, taking in the raw emotion beneath his harsh words. It wasn’t just anger—there was hurt buried deep within his voice. He was trying so hard to push them away, to act as if he felt nothing, but Vivie could see the cracks in his armor. She had never seen him like this before—so guarded, so bitter, so wounded.

As the tense conversation continued, Vivie noticed his mother glancing toward her briefly before lowering her gaze. The way she wrung her hands together, as if she wanted to say something but was too afraid to, made Vivie’s heart clench. Ashton’s father finally sighed, standing up. "Just think about it," he muttered before turning toward the door. The rest of the family followed suit, leaving the house as quietly as they had come. Ashton remained frozen, his back rigid as he stared at the door long after they had gone.

That night, as Vivie lay in bed, her phone buzzed. She picked it up and saw a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi, Vivie. It’s me, Selena. Ashton’s sister. I know we’ve never spoken, but I need a favor. Please convince Ashton to come to the baby shower. He might listen to you.

Vivie stared at the message, her heart clenching. Convincing Ashton? That was going to be a challenge. But as she glanced at him from across the room, watching the shadows play across his face, she realized—she wanted to try. Maybe, just maybe, she could reach the part of him that he kept buried beneath all that anger.