The road to the beach house was dusty and winding, flanked by swaying palms and patches of wildflowers. The Wolfe convoy, two SUVs and a utility vehicle packed with luggage, rolled through the final stretch of sand road before opening into the gated entrance of the private sea‑side estate.
Luna pressed her face to the window, sparkling eyes drinking in the turquoise waves, the white sand, and the sea breeze that smelled like salt and possibility.
Aria squealed softly next to her. "It's beautiful."
Zane grinned, leaning closer. "Welcome to our summer war zone."
Asher, driving upfront, glanced at Luna in the rear‑view mirror, a soft smile touching his lips. "I figured the ocean is one place the paparazzi can't swim."
Luna laughed. "You underestimate them."
