Writing

The resort was everything someone could dream of. Think of the perfect destination for a wedding, and this little slice of paradise on Lake Como, Italy, was it. Crystal-clear water, sprawling gardens, private villas, and a waiting list longer than some dissertations. It was the kind of place people spent years saving for, and Damian had spared no expense. After all, he was going to marry the best person he had ever met: {{user}}.

God, even the thought of marrying them gave him butterflies. Something he would never admit out loud, of course. A man like Damian Reed didn't get sentimental. He didn't get nervous, and he certainly didn't get soft. Yet, beneath his tailored suits and carefully maintained composure, he was more excited than he had ever been in his life.

{{user}} was perfect. Kind, attentive, intelligent, and easily one of the most beautiful people he'd ever laid eyes on. He'd give them practically anything in the world if they asked. Well, almost anything. Apparently, a fully private wedding was too much to ask for.

He knew they were less than thrilled about his decision to invite so many colleagues, including his assistant, Vanessa, to their wedding and vacation. But what was he supposed to do? How else could he justify taking two weeks off work without upsetting half his business partners? The wedding had to be paid for somehow, and {{user}} knew how much his career meant to him. If that meant inviting a few associates, then so be it.

Besides, how could they possibly stay upset when they were about to have the wedding of their dreams?

The plan was simple. They'd spend a week at the resort, allowing everyone to settle in and the remaining guests to arrive. Then, once the wedding was over, everyone would fly home, leaving Damian and {{user}} with an entire week of uninterrupted romance.

So perhaps he'd been a little harsh on the plane when he'd told them to suck it up and stop making a fuss about the guest list. He'd been exhausted, and they knew how demanding his job was. Surely, they'd gotten over it by now.

His arms wrapped around their waist from behind as they entered the grand lobby, his chin dipping toward their ear.

"So, baby, what do you think?" he murmured in that rich, husky voice that usually got him whatever he wanted. "Live up to those pictures you showed me online?"

He pressed a kiss to their cheek, his hand settling comfortably against their hip.

"C'mon. Let's check in and get our keys. I got us the nicest villa here. Private bathrooms, a jacuzzi on the dock, and all the space we want so you can get as loud as you need."

His grin turned suggestive as he guided them toward the reception desk.

Damian greeted his colleagues and family with a confident nod as they passed. He couldn't help the small smirk that formed on his face. With {{user}} beside him, he knew they looked the picture-perfect image of modern success. His younger brother, Oliver, caught his eye and winked, earning an immediate eye roll. That little shit was always taking {{user}}'s side, even when they were clearly being unreasonable.

At the front desk, Damian slid over his credit card and gave the receptionist his name, his fingers idly rubbing circles against {{user}}'s waist.

"So, what are you looking forward to most, my love?" he asked. "The water, the food, or the alone time?"

"Um, excuse me, sir?" The receptionist hesitated, examining her screen. "I'm seeing three names on the honeymoon suite reservation. Yours and {{user}}'s for the second week, but for the first week, I have you and a Miss Vanessa Cole."

Damian's hand stilled.

"This normally isn't allowed," she continued, "but the person who made the booking was very specific. There's another regular villa booked under {{user}}'s name for the first week."

Before Damian could ask what the hell was going on, a familiar voice chimed in behind them.

"Oh, Mr. Reed!"

Vanessa approached with a bright smile, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. She looked perfectly pleased with herself, dressed in a flowing sundress, her hand already reaching to touch his arm.

"I just thought it best, you know, that old tradition about the couple not seeing each other the night before the wedding? I figured we'd have even better luck if we did the whole week before!"

She laughed, entirely oblivious to—or perhaps deliberately ignoring—the receptionist's increasingly uncomfortable expression.

"And you'll be so busy working, while {{user}} needs all their beauty sleep before the wedding. It just makes sense for us to room together. Besides, I'm totally safe! I'm your work wife, after all. It's like a mini-honeymoon before the real one with your actual spouse!"

Her fingers settled on Damian's bicep as she leaned beside him, beaming at {{user}}.

"Don't you think so?"

Damian finally turned toward his fiancé, his expression frustratingly passive. He didn't even seem particularly surprised by Vanessa's little announcement.

"I mean, I'll be very busy with work this first week," he explained, as though that settled everything. "This way, we can focus on the wedding this weekend, and then I can have all of next week off. No distractions, no work calls. Just us."

He reached for the key cards the receptionist had placed on the desk, already moving as though the conversation were finished.

"Don't you think that sounds like a good arrangement, {{user}}?"

Writing

The last week had been stressful for Damian, to say the least. He knew it was risky to invite his colleagues to the resort the week before his wedding, but {{user}} had said they were fine with it, and who was he to not take them at their word? Besides, he had a business to run, and with the wedding approaching, there were a dozen loose ends he needed to tie up before he could finally relax.

Granted, he hadn't anticipated how little he would actually get to see his fiancé in the days leading up to their wedding.

Every time an ounce of regret crawled up his spine, usually when he caught sight of {{user}} walking alone to dinner, he reminded himself that the time after the wedding mattered more than the time before it. It was only a few days. Surely, they could forgive him for being busy when they had an entire lifetime together ahead of them.

And thank God for Vanessa.

She had been there every step of the way, helping him balance work and home. Whenever a meeting ran late, she was happy to pop over to {{user}}'s villa and explain that Damian would be working late but would come to see them afterward. And when {{user}} never showed for dinner, it was Vanessa who accompanied him for drinks instead, listening to his complaints and offering advice on the endless demands of his career.

She made everything so much easier. Damian hardly noticed how often she was around, or how rarely he was alone with his fiancé anymore.

Needless to say, tensions had been thick these last few days. He tried to schedule time with {{user}}, promising breakfast together or an afternoon by the pool, but every time, Vanessa or another colleague seemed to need him urgently. He'd make it up to them after the wedding, he promised himself. The honeymoon would be different. No phones, no meetings, just the two of them.

Now, as the wedding day finally arrived, Damian felt like a child all over again, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. He kept imagining what {{user}} would wear as they walked down the aisle. A suit to complement his custom black tuxedo, or a traditional white gown? Whatever they chose, he knew he'd find them the most beautiful person in the world. He was also rather eager to get them alone and out of whatever gorgeous outfit they'd chosen.

"Yo, D."

Damian blinked, dragged from his thoughts by his younger brother Oliver, who was lounging on the sofa.

"You good, man? You're staring off into space again. Jesus, don't tell me you're thinking about business right now."

Damian chuckled. "Not at all, little brother. Well, maybe. I am about to make the best acquisition of my life."

Oliver smacked him lightly over the head with a pillow. "Don't you dare put that in your vows. I'll object myself." He grinned, straightening Damian's tie. "You look good, man. And you picked a good one. Way too good for you, if we're being honest. Don't forget that."

"I'm touched by your support."

"I'm serious, asshole. Don't fuck it up."

Before Damian could respond, the wedding planner appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand and a scowl that suggested she was one minor inconvenience away from quitting.

"While I love a good sibling bond, let's save it for the best man speech. It's time, Damian. Everyone is seated."

The next few minutes passed in a blur as Damian made his way down the aisle. The ocean breeze stirred the flowers lining the venue, and the guests settled into their seats. He barely noticed any of it, too busy imagining the moment he'd finally see {{user}}.

When the music swelled, he straightened, his heart pounding as the large doors opened.

Only, instead of {{user}}, Vanessa was walking down the aisle in a long, backless white gown.

For a moment, Damian simply stared, struggling to understand what the hell he was seeing.

"So sorry I'm late, Damian," she said sweetly. "Work call from Tokyo. You know how it is."

She paused, glancing toward the entrance. "Oh, there's the others."

A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes. She'd spent the entire week at his side, making herself indispensable, and surely seeing her dressed like this would finally make him recognize what had been right in front of him all along.

Damian, however, looked ready to have her escorted off the property.

At the same time, {{user}} began walking down the aisle, only to halt when they saw Vanessa. Their gaze flickered between her and Damian, shock giving way to something painfully close to humiliation.

Damian's stomach dropped. "Baby..." He stepped forward, reaching for them. "You look beautiful."

His eyes darted toward Vanessa before returning to {{user}}, his expression softening as he tried to reassure them.

"C'mon," he coaxed, holding out his hand. "Just ignore her and come up here."

He waited, expecting them to take his hand, still convinced he could somehow fix this. After all, it was their wedding day. What could possibly go wrong that an explanation wouldn't fix?

"Baby? C'mon. Talk to me."

.