Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
S leep came by like a ghost in the night, evading me entirely. I should have taken Sin’s offer to move into his room. Let him cradle me against his warm chest.
I slip into the hallway, making my way downstairs with Axle by my side. I pause at the bottom of the staircase, listening in on a hushed argument between Sin and Bria.
“If you ever treat her like that again, I will knock you out,” she quips.
He sighs, and I can imagine he’s running his hand over his face. “You know I can’t help it when we’re at work. I couldn’t just tell everyone we’re together, Bria, you know they will see it as a weakness and come after her.”
“I know.” She pauses. “But you will lose her if shit like that keeps happening.”
“She’s not going anywhere. I won’t allow it.”
Some broken part of me loves to hear those words, while the other side tenses wondering if he’s being truthful .
“Good morning, buddy!” Bria coos as Axle barrels in. I casually walk in behind him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“I’m serious, Sin,” she warns one last time.
Sin rolls his eyes at his sister, pointing his striking gaze at her. “We’re going for a family visit in two weeks.”
She looks surprised but simply nods, giving me a quick hug before retreating up the stairs.
I, on the other hand, give him a worried look. I’ve never met ‘the parents’ in any scenario. What if his dad hates me? “It’s going to be fine.” Sin smiles, planting a gentle kiss on my lips.
The past two weeks fly by in a blur of activity, each day somehow more surreal than the last. Sin insists on more driving lessons. Most of our sessions involve me gripping the wheel while he smirks from the passenger seat, teasing me about every wrong turn. But I can’t deny I’m getting better, even if he still refuses to let me drive in the city. “Let’s not tempt fate,” he says, half-joking.
Work at Alice in Brewland has settled into a rhythm. Victoria’s patience seems endless, and her sarcastic humor keeps me from losing my mind during the morning rush. I’ve started remembering the regulars’ names and orders—Mrs. Delaney with her impossible latte, Mr. Porter and his black coffee with two sugars, Cameron with his first editions that have luckily been flying from the shelves. There’s something comforting about the routine, even if my feet ache by the end of every shift .
Bria has made it her mission to prepare me for Italy. Every spare moment she’s free, we’re at some boutique or department store, hunting for outfits she insists I’ll “absolutely need.” I try to argue that my wardrobe is fine, but she just rolls her eyes and hands me another dress to try on. “Trust me, Magnolia,” she says with a grin. “Italian fashion is next-level, and you’re not showing up looking like you just left gym class.”
Sin joins us occasionally, but his role is mostly to stand around looking amused while Bria drapes me in scarves or insists I need heels that are impossible to walk in. I catch him smirking as I wobble on a pair of stilettos, and he doesn’t even try to hide his laugh when I glare at him. “You’ll thank her later,” he says, his tone maddeningly calm.
By the end of the two weeks, I’m exhausted but oddly… happy. My driving has improved, Alice in Brewland feels less intimidating, and Bria’s infectious excitement about Italy is starting to rub off on me. Not that I’m not over the moon about having the opportunity to one, go on a plane, and two visit an entirely different country, I just plain as day think Sin’s dad will see me for what I am.
Unworthy of his son.
We pull onto the terminal and exit my sleek black Mercedes. I drove us here, white-knuckled through nighttime traffic. The day was spent packing with Bria, getting excited for my first ever trip .
Ever.
And it’s out of the country.
The private jet gleams under the airport lights, sleek and intimidating, its sharp lines cutting against the dark sky.
My stomach twists with excitement and nerves as I stand on the tarmac, staring up at it. The faint roar of engines in the distance hums in my ears, blending with the pounding of my heartbeat.
“First time flying, huh?” Sin says, coming up beside me, his voice warm and teasing.
I glance at him, his easy grin and calm demeanor doing little to settle my nerves. “You mean first time flying ever, not just on a private jet.”
His grin widens, and he offers me his hand. “Then this is going to spoil you forever.”
I laugh nervously, taking his hand. His grip is firm and steady, grounding me as he leads me toward the steps. My fingers tighten around his as we climb, the sleek metal stairs feeling surreal beneath my feet. The cabin door is open, and the faint scent of leather and something faintly citrusy greets me as we step inside.
The interior is nothing like I expected—plush leather seats arranged like a living room, soft lighting that feels more like a luxury hotel than a plane. I pause just inside the doorway, taking it all in.
“This is… insane,” I breathe, turning to him.
He chuckles, his hand lingering at the small of my back. “You like it?”
“‘Like it’ feels like an understatement,” I say, running my fingers over the edge of one of the seats. “This doesn’t feel real .”
He gestures toward a seat near the window. “It’s real, I promise. And that one has the best view.”
I sit down carefully, like the seat might somehow evaporate under me. He takes the one across from me, a table between us, leaning back with the kind of effortless ease that makes me wonder how many times he’s done this. A flight attendant appears briefly, offering drinks and a warm smile before disappearing again.
Bria, Rollins, Zeik, and Maxwell arrive moments later, climbing in like it’s nothing more than a simple car ride.
“Don’t worry,” Sin says, sensing my nerves. “Takeoff’s the only part that might feel weird, but once we’re up there, it’s smooth sailing.”
Bria gives me a little wave before lying down on a plush bench seat, covering her eyes with a sleeping mask.
“Does she need to be buckled in?”
Sin looks over at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s fine. Wouldn’t hurt for her to get thrown around a bit anyways.”
This makes me laugh, but I watch the way Max sits beside her, ready to steady her at a moment’s notice.
I nod at Sin, gripping the armrests a little too tightly as the engines start to rumble. The sound grows louder, the cabin vibrating faintly, and I glance at him. He reaches over the table, taking my hand in his.
“Relax,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I’ve got you.”
His words, paired with the steadiness of his touch, calm me more than I expect. I focus on him instead of the sensations—the way his eyes soften when he looks at me, the faint smirk that never seems far from his lips.
The plane begins to move, rolling down the runway faster and faster until the moment my stomach flips and the ground falls away. I gasp, gripping his hand tighter, and he laughs quietly, his fingers lacing through mine.
“We’re flying,” I whisper, the awe in my voice undeniable.
He turns to look out the window with me, the lights of the city shrinking below us, the darkness of the sky enveloping the plane. “Told you it wasn’t so bad.”
I can’t help but smile, my fear melting away as I take it all in—the endless expanse of stars, the way the clouds seem close enough to touch. “It’s… beautiful,” I say, leaning closer to the window.
“So are you,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, and I turn to find him watching me again, his gaze filled with something deeper, something that makes my heart flutter.
I don’t answer, but the warmth in my chest speaks louder than words. The jet eventually levels out, and the seatbelt sign dings off, but I don’t let go of his hand. I don’t think I’ll need to; not for the rest of this flight, or maybe for a long time after.
“Here.” He stands, still holding my hand. “Let’s get more comfortable.”
We move closer to where Bria is, sitting on the bench opposite her. Before we sit down, the woman comes by, bringing blankets and pillows. Sin sits on the edge and gestures for me to lie on him. I extend my legs, and he places a pillow on his. I snuggle onto him, feeling the weight of the blanket as the throws it over my body.
I slip into a deep, comfortable sleep, hearing him having quiet conversations with the others in the cabin. “Dim the lights,” he tells one of the girls, but that doesn’t matter because he has his palm gently draped over my eyes, blocking any light from bothering me.