Princess
Sunday | 7:47am
The Island of Saint Ashwa
The sunlight streaming through the sheer white curtains made the entire villa glow. I blinked into it slowly, letting myself stretch against the cool silk sheets as my body adjusted to the morning. It was still early, but not so early that the island was asleep.
I could hear waves crashing in the near distance and birds singing like they didn’t have a single care in the world. A soft breeze lifted the edges of the curtains, letting in the scent of salt, hibiscus, and something warm and sweet.
Saint Ashwa was beautiful. Peaceful and beautiful. It was a kind of peace I wasn’t used to. This luxury retreat sat in the middle of nowhere, tucked away from the chaos and almost untouched by it. Here, the sky stayed bluer, the nights felt softer, and people moved like they weren’t rushing to escape their lives.
I sat up slowly, adjusting the strap of the nightgown I barely remembered slipping into the night before, and glanced toward the wide windows lining the bedroom wall. The view was postcard-perfect. The private pool on the patio still shimmered from the moonlight hours ago, and just beyond that was white sand, endless water, and skies so clear it didn’t seem real.
I should’ve been relaxed, and a part of me was. But another part of me hadn’t stopped thinking about Nyce. The way he held me before I left. And even though I smiled, even though I nodded, even though I told him I trusted him… The truth was, my heart hadn’t unclenched since I boarded the flight.
Belvin had driven Mora and me to the airport himself, suited up like always, calm and collected. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. He just handed us each our passports, told us our bags were already loaded, and walked us straight through security to a private jet like it was just another day.
Mora had squealed the second we stepped on board. The jet was luxurious, like one I’d been on a few times for family trips. Leather seats, champagne already chilled, fresh fruit and warm pastries, silk blankets, and soft music.
Saint Ashwa welcomed us like royalty, with drivers waiting at the airstrip with signs bearing our names. Staff lined up at the villa to greet us with flower leis and cold towels. Personalized drinks with real sugar cane, fresh fruit platters the size of beach towels, and a two-bedroom villa that made me gasp when we stepped inside.
Mora laughed all day, snapping pictures and narrating like a music video. We swam. We drank. We danced under stars andstring lights. We floated in the warm ocean and let strangers bring us cocktails on trays, like we were somebody. I let her pull me in, let her tease me and make me laugh. I let her help me forget, if only for a little while. But I couldn’tnotthink of him.
I sighed, rubbing my hand over my bare thigh as I moved to stand and stretch at the edge of the bed. My body was still heavy with sleep, but I couldn’t ignore the ache. The pull. The gnawing uncertainty in my chest.
And my phone screen lit up from the nightstand, vibrating once, then again, the sound low but sharp in the stillness of the morning.
Mora’s voice floated from the other side of the villa about pineapple pancakes, but I barely heard her as I answered the call. “Hello?”
“Princess Iyanna Montgomery.” Her tone was sharp, not soft as usual. “Why does your location say you’re in the Caribbean?”
“I’m safe,” I said quickly. “I promise you I’m safe.”
“Is that…Nycecharacter is with you?”
I closed my eyes. I had known this call wouldn’t be easy, but I still wasn’t ready for the weight of it. “No, Ma. I’m with Mora. We just… needed a little vacation. Just us girls.”
“Oh.” There was a pause before she sighed heavily. “And you’re safe?”
I chuckled a bit. “Yes. Aside from Mora planning for us to go jet skiing, I’m fine. How are you?”
“You know your grandparents never liked your father. They’re thrilled to have me home. Just great.”
“Good. No better time to start over.”
“When you get back, you’ll help me find us a place. Or…”
“…if I don’t get my own place.” I finished for her. “I’m sure Nyce will help me.” My mother scoffed, and I continued, “He’s not all bad, Ma. He’s really not. He’s been protecting me.”
“Protecting you from what?” she snapped. “Him? Or the disaster he dragged you into?”
“That’s not fair,” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “You don’t know everything that happened.”
“I know enough,” she said, her voice shaking now. “And I know the man responsible for all of this is the same one you’re falling for.”
“I’m not...” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “I can explain.”
“So now he’s your savior?” she asked finally. “Is that what you’re saying?”
