Page 21 of Beloved Beauty

Her brows pull together, soft but sharp. “What happened again?”

“Tyson McRae. He waited until I was alone. Cornered me. Told me everything he always does—that he still loves me, that I’m making a mistake, that Alex isn’t right for me.”

I draw in a shaky breath. “He grabbed me. Not hard. And not to hurt me but to stop me from walking away. Alex saw it, and you can imagine how well that went.”

“Oh, lo’u afafine. It’s no wonder you aren’t in the mood for this today.”

“Alex was able to hold himself back, but I watched every muscle in his body tense, a bomb ready to explode. I was so scared of what Alex might do. He’s so on edge and his breaking point is coming soon.” I look up and meet her eyes. “I couldn’t live with it if he lost control—to protect me—and it cost him everything.”

I don’t say the words, but we both know what I mean.

Elias told us everything about what happened in the States. We knew Tyson would be back, and we’ve all been bracing for his next move.”

“I don’t want to burden anyone with this.”

I’m not only scared of Tyson. I fear what this fight between them could turn into.

Malie shakes her head. “Magnolia, protecting you isn’t a burden. And neither is protecting the man you love.”

Her words strike a chord deep inside me. “How do I protect Alex?”

Malie sits up a little straighter. Her tone doesn’t change. Not even a twitch of emotion. Just a cool, composed statement. “Kick Tyson in the dick,” she says with absolute calm.

I stare at her. Blink once. Then twice. “I’m sorry—what?”

She folds her hands in her lap. “You heard me. Kick him in the dick every time he approaches you. No hesitation. No apology. Even a man who fancies himself in love will fall out very fast if that woman keeps aiming for his balls.”

There’s a second of dead silence. Then Leilani gasps. “That may be the best advice you’ve ever given, Tina.”

Sefina nearly spits out her champagne. “Honestly? Iconic, Tina.”

I burst into laughter, the kind that tumbles out messy and startled, a little rough around the edges. “Kick him in the dick?” I echo, wiping at the corner of my eye.

“Hard as you can,” Malie says, nodding as if this is now official family policy. “No warning. No build-up. Just take the shot and walk away when he goes down. Let him know you’re not playing around.”

We all lose it. The whole boutique fills with the sound of women laughing—not the soft, bridal giggles you’re supposed to hear in this kind of place. This is full-throated, real-deal cackling, and it’s the first time I’ve felt light in days.

I still don’t have the dress, but I’ve got something better. Armor––in the form of the fiercest women I know.

We don’t find the dress. Not today.

The last gown goes back on the hanger, and the stylist gives me a sympathetic smile. But I’m not disappointed. Not really. Because I may leave empty-handed—but I’m not walking out empty-hearted.

Malie links her arm through mine as we head toward the door, Leilani and Sefina chatting behind us about lunch plans and what style dress would better suit me. And I realize, I’m not alone in this.

I may not have Vi beside me the way we always imagined, but I have Malie, Leilani, and Sefina––women who will straighten my crown and if needed, fix a problem named Tyson McRae with a strategically placed knee.

He thinks I’m the same girl he chased through Charleston. Soft-spoken. Scared. Alone. But he’s in for a surprise. I’ve got backup now.

And… a green light to aim low.

Chapter 8

Alex Sebring

The music’s beat thunders through the gym—low, filthy bass and a voice that spits grit and venom. It’s a song intended to drown out excuses, the type I used to blast before game day to remind myself of who I was.

Right now? I need the reminder.

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