18
The jet gleamed on the tarmac like a predator poised to strike, sleek and intimidating.
Much like me. I ushered Lenora up the stairs, my hand lightly brushing her back as she walked ahead of me, her small frame encased in a sage green dress reaching up to her knees that had been driving me mad all day.
She was the picture of elegance without even trying, her innocence so unassuming it made others—and me—unable to look away.
The flight attendant, Mark, was already stationed at the door, flashing his overly eager grin. I didn't care for him. There was something about the way his eyes flicked to Lenora—lingering too long, appraising her with a charm that wasn't so much professional as opportunistic.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Maroni," Mark greeted me, but his smile widened when his attention shifted to Lenora. "Miss, welcome aboard. If there's anything at all you need, please don't hesitate to let me know."
I clenched my jaw, already irritated. Lenora, of course, was polite to a fault. "Thank you," she murmured, offering him a small, shy smile.
I moved between them, my hand settling possessively on her lower back. "We're fine," I said curtly, guiding her to our seats.
Lenora settled into the plush leather, smoothing her skirt nervously. I remained standing for a moment, glaring at Mark until he got the message and retreated toward the galley.
The flight began smoothly enough, but Mark's behavior was grating on my last nerve. He kept appearing under the guise of offering refreshments or ensuring the cabin temperature was suitable. His attention, however, was always laser-focused on Lenora.
At one point, he leaned far too close as he handed her a glass of water. "Here you go, Miss," he said, his tone warm and bordering on intimate.
Lenora thanked him softly, clearly uncomfortable but too polite to say anything.
That was it.
"Mark," I said, my voice cold and sharp as a blade.
He turned to me, his smile faltering. "Yes, sir?"
"You're dismissed," I said flatly.
His brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I said, rising to my full height. "You're done. Pack your things and be off this plane before we take off. I'll have your termination processed by the time we land in New York."
Mark's face paled. "Sir, I—"
"Go," I snapped, cutting him off.
He hesitated for a moment, glancing at Lenora as though expecting her to intervene. She didn't. She only looked down at her lap, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
Within minutes, Mark was gone, replaced by another attendant—one who knew how to keep their focus on their job.
As the jet leveled out at cruising altitude, Lenora finally spoke.
"Y..you didn't have to do that," she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Yes, I did," I replied, my tone leaving no room for argument. "He was unprofessional."
She looked at me, her brow furrowed. "You didn't have to fire him, though."
So fucking kind.
I leaned back in my seat, studying her. "You don't understand how the world works stellina. People like him don't deserve second chances when they cross boundaries."
Her lips parted as though to protest, but she quickly closed them, her shoulders sinking as she turned back to the window.
Good. She needed to learn that I didn't tolerate anyone crossing the line when it came to her.
Later, as we browsed the in-flight menu, I noticed her eyes light up as she reached the dessert section.
So I was right, my girl has a sweet tooth.
"You have a sweet tooth," I observed, smirking slightly.
Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. "I don't... I mean, maybe a little."
"A little?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically drooling over that panna cotta at dinner last night."
She ducked her head, her blush deepening. "I just like desserts, that's all."
I couldn't help but find it endearing, even as I felt a pang of concern. "You need to be careful," I said, my tone softening. "Too much sugar isn't good for you."
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Are you worried about my health now?"
"Yes," I said simply, holding her gaze. "I am."
The tension between us simmered as the hours passed, building to an unbearable heat.
At one point, as she shifted in her seat, her dress slipped slightly, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone. My restraint frayed.
"Lenora," I said, my voice low and commanding.
She turned to me, her eyes wide with confusion. "Yes?"
"Come here."
She hesitated, her breath hitching, but she obeyed, standing and moving toward me. Before she could say anything, I reached out, pulling her into my lap.
Her small hands braced against my chest as she gasped softly. "L..luca—"
"Quiet," I murmured, my hands settling on her waist. "Just sit still."
Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven as she complied. The warmth of her body against mine was maddening, her scent intoxicating.
"You drive me insane," I muttered, my lips brushing against her ear as she let out a soft gasp.
She squirmed slightly, her fingers clutching my shirt. "L..luca, t..this isn't—"
"This is exactly what it is," I said, my grip tightening. "You belong to me, Lenora. Don't forget that."
Her eyes met mine, wide and uncertain, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But instead, she nodded, her blush deepening as she turned her gaze downward.
"Good girl," I murmured, satisfied as she flushed harder.
The rest of the flight passed in a haze of heated glances and unspoken words, my hand resting on the small back drawing patterns on her hip. By the time we landed, I knew one thing for certain, I would destroy anyone who dared to come between us.