Author's Pov...
The morning sun on the island was soft and golden, filtering through gauzy curtains as a salty breeze swirled around the villa. For the first time since his disastrous honeymoon began, Ren woke up in an empty bed.
No looming husband.
No surprise personalities.
No one is clinging to his legs.
No one shouting tax laws in his face.
Just peace. Sweet, blessed peace.
Ren sat up, rubbing his still-sore shoulders and finally, finally smiled to himself. "I can live in peace today," he whispered to the universe as if he were bargaining with the gods. "Evan must have gone somewhere else in the villa. Maybe he's finally… normal now."
With that little seed of hope blooming in his chest, Ren hummed to himself as he went through his morning routine.
After a long bath, he carefully selected his outfit, deciding to enjoy the tropical weather at least once before being hunted down by another one of his husband's chaotic selves.
He chose a loose floral-print shirt, the kind that fluttered with the breeze, paired with comfortable light trousers.
"Vacation mode. Casual. Relaxed," Ren whispered to himself like it was a mantra. "No husbands. No drama. Just me and my freedom today."
He stepped out of the villa, stretching his arms wide under the bright blue sky.
Finally…
Peace.
Or so he thought.
His foot barely touched the cobblestone path when a familiar scent hit him—expensive cologne. Subtle, but unmistakably noble.
Ren slowly turned his head, and there, standing not five feet in front of him, was Evan.
Or rather…
Aldric Vallen, the Duke.
Evan was draped in an extravagant navy coat with gold embroidery, a high-collared vest, white gloves, and a family crest ring glinting under the sunlight.
His perfectly styled hair looked like it belonged on the cover of a royal magazine. In his hand, he held a silver-tipped cane sword, more for drama than actual use.
He looked like he'd just stepped out of a historical romance novel.
Ren nearly choked on air.
"Wha— You— I thought— I thought I escaped you today!!" Ren stammered, his vacation dream crumbling like dry sand.
The Duke stepped forward, his polished boots clicking against the stone.
"My beloved spouse," Aldric began, bowing with unnecessary theatrical flair, "you seem troubled. Were you perhaps…..running away from me?"
"Running away? Me? Never!" Ren denied quickly, sweat gathering at the back of his neck.
"Do not lie to me, my dear." Before Ren could even step back, the Duke scooped him up in a bridal carry. Effortlessly.
"P-Put me down!! What is this now?!" Ren flailed, his floral sleeves fluttering wildly.
"You cannot roam freely," Aldric said with a small, knowing smile. "You are far too precious to be exposed to the dangers of the outside world. I must keep you safe…..inside the villa."
"It's a private island!!" Ren screamed. "There is nothing dangerous here except you!"
"I am well aware of my own dangers," the Duke said smoothly, tightening his grip. "Which is why you must remain locked safely within my estate. You are mine. No one shall dare touch what belongs to me."
"Stop speaking like we are in the 1800s! This is the modern day! I'm here to enjoy a vacation, not spend it locked inside with your—your—"
Ren's words caught in his throat as the Duke brought Ren's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles softly, right there in broad daylight.
Several villa staff paused, wide-eyed at the sight of their young master being so gallantly carried away like a blushing princess.
Ren was not blushing. (He was absolutely blushing.)
"Please—put me down! I can walk! I have legs!"
"Indeed you do. Beautiful ones, too," the Duke mused, completely ignoring Ren's protests. "But I find I prefer carrying you. It spares me the possibility of you fleeing again."
"Why would I flee?!"
"Because I know you have been thinking of divorce."
Ren's jaw dropped. "How do you—"
"My dear," the Duke smirked, "I know everything about you. Even the way you grind your teeth when you are frustrated."
Ren covered his mouth in horror. "I don't grind my teeth!"
"You absolutely do."
Back inside the villa, the Duke gently deposited Ren onto the grand velvet sofa like he was placing the most fragile treasure on display.
"Now, be good. I shall have the maids prepare your tea."
"Wait, wait, wait—" Ren stomped his feet like a child, throwing an actual tantrum. "I refuse to spend my honeymoon imprisoned! I want to go to the beach! I want to eat grilled fish by the shore! I want to wear ugly sunglasses in public!"
"All of which can be arranged—inside the villa grounds." The Duke's calm response nearly drove Ren insane.
"You—You tyrant husband!" Ren picked up a nearby cushion and hurled it at Aldric.
Without missing a beat, the Duke caught the cushion mid-air, twirled it like it was part of a royal fencing move, and calmly placed it back on the sofa.
"Is that the best you can do, my dear?" Aldric whispered with a soft, teasing smile.
Ren screamed into another cushion.
"I just wanted a peaceful vacation!"
But no.
Not with Evan.
Not with Evan's army of husbands.
And certainly not with Aldric Vallen, the overbearing Duke.
As Ren sulked dramatically on the couch, one thought circled in his head like a broken record:
Great, another husband's personality unlocked. What's the count now?