My body flattens to the seat, and I hold my breath along with my thoughts.
My lungs expand as we take flight. Then we are soaring upward through the sky, steady and smooth, to get closer to the stars. To the moon. My mum’s magical moon.
Staring out the window into the black void only lit by the red light on the wing, I smile. "Woah."
"When we arrive in Dubai, the sun will be just rising," he advises, and I turn to him in shock.Dubai?"And you can watch the world light up from above it…" He pauses. "Like my queen. Will that please you?"
"Dubai?Woah." I try to recall everything I know about the place but come up short. It's in the Middle East. I think? That's the extent of my knowledge. "Yes."
"Good. Accept that part of your life is over. Accept who you are and who you belong to." The plane levels out, and he unbuckles his seat belt, saying, "Do you have any more questions for me? Don’t be shy."
Who am I going to be to you? Will we have children? Will I be part of your family, with your brothers?
Am I the right woman?
I glance down at his thighs, wondering whether he'll let me sit at his feet and rest my head on his knee.Am I allowed?I don't know private jet protocol.
"Would you like a beverage?" One of the suited ladies appears at our side, her eyes politely on Clay's face. I tilt my head, wondering how she stays so respectful and calm when he is so striking, such a force of masculine prowess. Then I notice her chest rises and falls fast, and the roll of her throat follows. Sheissusceptible to his magnetic pull.
"Whiskey," he states, offering her a smooth smile.
"Oh." Beaming at the thought, I quickly say, "Same for me, please."
"No," he states, his eyes dropping the length of my torso and up again. "No alcohol. Juice?"
My shoulders deflate. "But I had whiskey the other day with your dad. I like it."
The muscles along his jaw pulse. "No. Alcohol."
I frown, thinking about Aurora nursing a glass tumbler, and sipping her whiskey without his refusal. A little grumble leaves me. "Fine."
"Grape juice?"
I raise a brow at him. "Funny."
As the lady leaves his side, he leans back a little further, eyeing me with intent and amusement. "You like whiskey?"
"Yes. I really do. It's fucking amazing. Like drinking liquid fire, somehow. I won't have much. Just one glass. Ya know? Experience the whole plane thing properly," I press, appealing to the side of him that wants me to experience things and use my voice. I grin. "Please, Sir."
A smooth, charismatic smile works in the corner of his lips, and my stomach bursts with butterflies just like the first time I saw him. "Another time, sweet girl. I promise. For now, juice and focus.” He nods at the spot between his feet.
My sigh of contentment cascades like a wave. I do as I am ‘nodded’ to do, unbuckling my belt and jumping to my feet.
I sit between his legs on the floor.
I settle in, and he combs his fingers through my hair. “You have been very brave tonight, little deer. I’m proud of my sweet girl for her first time flying. I admit I was trying to distract you. But using your voice is important to me. So, do you have any further questions for me about your father?”
It did work, Sir.
Resting my head on his lap and staring at the red light on the plane's wing as it flashes, I think about this life of rivals and enemies and, as Luca put it,‘bad blood.’I don't mind what the answer is… I just want to ask it. "Who is the villain in this story? Is it my dad?"
"I'm the villain," he states, and my chest tightens. My first assessment of him beingthe Devil's prototypecomes tumbling back into my mind. "Your father is the villain," he adds. "We are all evil in someone else's narrative."
I don't mind that he's the evil in someone else's narrative. I like his power. Control. His morally grey existence. I've lived with‘good’people—my foster mother, for one. I've askedjustpeople for help—the police. People who wear a façade of pristine correctness to hide the pollution inside them.
I gaze up at him. "You're not evil in mine." I look into endless blue eyes that send shivers of warning and excitement through me. "You'reeverythingto me, everythingI ever wanted, Sir."
His lips take on a warning curve. "So sweet," he purrs. "And what do you think evil really looks like, little deer?"