Chapter 2
ROSE
“What was all that about with Mr. Inferno back there?” my colleague, Lisa says as we buckle up, ready for takeoff.
“Mr. Inferno?” I stare blankly, my head still whirling as if caught in a tailspin.
Lisa rolls her eyes as I feign ignorance. “You know, tall, dark, broody with ink like sin and a smoulder that could melt metal.”
Of course, she’s talking about Dan or D’Angelo or whatever he calls himself. He’s the hottest man on this flight and the most deceitful. I smooth out an imaginary wrinkle in my skirt. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, he sure set my knickers on fire. If he called me Rose, I’d change my bloody name. He can call me anything he likes.”
My lips curve into a smile. All these years, I always wondered what it would be like to bump into him again.
And now I don’t even know what to say. My fingers fumble with the seatbelt as the plane approaches the runway.
I hope Dan’s all right. He never told me he was an anxious passenger, or maybe it was seeing me again after all these years that had him all hot and bothered.
I laugh inwardly at the ridiculous thought.
Men don’t get excitable with worn-out, overweight single mums in their thirties.
The plane gains speed and I’m pinned back in my seat. The cabin shakes as we boom down the runway. My stomach flips on lift-off. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. My favourite part of this job is being in the air. It’s the only place I can be free without looking over my shoulder.
Except today.
When he said my name, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, bask in his safety, but I also wanted to slap him across the face.
He may be Mr. Inferno, but I can’t let his devilishly handsome looks blind me as to who he really is and what he did to me.
I need to keep myself under control around him and play it cool.
It’s just under a three-hour flight.
I can get through this.
“I wonder who Rose is?” Lisa says.
“Probably a dead girlfriend.” I may as well be dead to him. It’s been thirteen years and nine months, to be exact, and he’s made no attempt to reach out to me. It wouldn’t have been that difficult to find me before I changed my name.
“Ooooh, that’s tragic,” Lisa says. She doesn’t know the half of it. Our story could give Romeo and Juliet a run for its money. I may not have killed myself, but I’ve been numb since the day he left.
The light signals that we’re able to take off our seatbelts. “Time to get to work.” Lisa loads the drinks trolly.
“Do you want to take business class and I’ll do economy?
” Avoiding him is probably for the best. I can’t be dragged into his world.
Years ago, I was a na?ve little girl. Now a woman, I am all too familiar with the ways of men.
Being forced to marry a narcissist and head of the London crime syndicate, you learn fast how to deal with men.
“Sure. I’ll take Mr. Inferno.” She gives me a wink and sashays through the curtain, pushing the first class trolley.
I slip into the locker and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking I’m connected to the plane’s Wi-Fi, and send a message.
Good luck today with your football match. Love you. X
My son’s picture smiles at me on my screen backdrop. An old photo of just the two of us. Just how I like it. I slip the phone back into my locker and carry on loading the trolley.
Lisa’s head pokes out from behind the curtain. “Grace. He’s asking for you.”
I roll my eyes. Of course he is. “Tell him I’m busy.”
“I did, but he insisted he wants you to serve him.”
Blood rushes to my head, making it difficult to think straight. I tug at my necktie, needing more air.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a little light-headed.” I fold the seat down and sit, taking deep breaths. I’ve been through hell. Another two hours with Dan should be like a walk in the park, but the thought of going back out there makes me nauseous.
“Take a minute. I’ll tell him you’re indisposed.”
“Thanks.” I lock myself in the toilet for a few minutes. I need to get it together. He’ll be waiting for the drink I promised, but I just can’t bring myself to go back out there. I should pour myself a shot for Dutch courage.
Staring at the mirror, I check my reflection. Thanks to a full face of makeup, I don’t look pale or flustered.
He’s just a man. A man who broke your heart. I sigh and close my eyes. A hundred memories race through my head. Memories I’ve tried to forget. Thinking of him was too painful.
The smell of the chemical toilet hits my nose and I need air. I need to get off this plane and put as much distance between us as possible.
I lift the handle and unlock the door, but as I push it open, tattooed fingers curl around the frame.
My heart beats wildly beneath my ribs, like a caged bird trying to escape, but on the outside, I remain calm.
I’m trained to deal with any flight emergency, but this isn’t turbulence. This is a crash waiting to happen.
Within seconds, D’Angelo’s pushing me back inside the cubicle. He locks the door behind him.
With nowhere to go in the tight space, my back hits the mirror behind me. “Sir?” Don’t react. Don’t let him see you’re shaking. Years of masking helps me portray a cool demeanour, but on the inside my muscles are wound so tight, my whole body aches.
“Shh.” His hand cups my cheek, then moves around my neck, gripping me with the gentlest touch. My flesh heats where his skin lingers. “It’s only me. You don’t have to be afraid of me, little bird.”
I should push him away. I should scream. But my body remembers him even when my mind wants to forget. “What do you want?” My voice quivers.
His eyes darken, flecks of grey and blue swirling around his pupils. “You’re trembling.”
Of course I’m trembling. You’re my heartbreak and fantasy rolled into one. “There’s a stranger holding me hostage by the throat,” I snark back.
He leans closer, his lips a breath away. Why does he have to smell so divine? “I’m no stranger, fiore mio.”
And just like that, any barrier I’d built comes crumbling down when he calls me his flower. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. Heat pools between my thighs and I’m sure my heart’s bleeding on the inside.
“Why are you hiding? Why change your name? Are you in trouble?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My body tenses, my hand curls around his at my throat, the warmth of him seeping into my skin.
He narrows his eyes. “You can change your name. Change your hair. Even your accent. But I’d recognise these eyes of yours anywhere and these lips.” His thumb runs along the seam of my mouth, causing a whimper to escape.
I shake my head. “You always act like the hero. But you couldn’t save me back then and you can’t save me now. Just let the past stay in the past.”
“I didn’t know you needed saving. You left me and got fucking married.” His grip on my throat tightens. With his other hand, he reaches for my wrist, then holds my ring finger up to the light.
It’s been eight years since I wore my wedding ring.
Eight years since I changed my name and moved north.
Eight years of gaining a small piece of myself back.
Yet I can still feel the weight of that ring.
Still feel the prison of a promise I never wanted.
And somehow, Dan’s touch makes me feel free again.
Dan exhales, his warm breath fanning the heat rolling off of me.
His shoulders drop as his fingers massage where my ring once shackled me to a life of misery.
He gazes into my eyes as if he can read the small print.
Even after all these years, he still knows how to touch me like I’m something precious.
That’s the most dangerous thing about him.
I try to remember why I hate him before I become putty in his arms. “You were the one who used me to get close to my family. I may have been a silly girl in love back then, but I’m a woman now.” The anger in my belly fuels the fire in me to stand my ground.
“I can see that.” He continues to massage my finger as if he can erase the ghost of my ring that still binds me to a man I loathe.
His forehead rests against mine as he whispers, “You’re still mine, fiore mio.
” He interlaces our fingers as if binding us together.
“You said you won’t let anything happen to me on this flight.
I won’t let anything happen to you on the ground. Tell me who you’re afraid of.”
I believe him. As silly as it sounds after everything that’s happened between us and what he did to my father, I believe this man would take a bullet for me. But it doesn’t change a thing. He betrayed me and he left. “The only person I’m afraid of right now is you.”
His eyes sadden. He lets go of my hand and my throat and takes a step back, putting some distance between us. It’s not enough, but at least I can breathe a little easier.
I’m not afraid of him hurting me. It’s a different fear.
I’m afraid if I stay in this close proximity to him, I’ll do something I regret.
I can handle most men. But D’Angelo isn’t just any man.
He was my first love. My first sexual experience and my first heartbreak.
He’s woven into my history and become part of who I am today—an empty shell with a hard exterior, aware of the ways of the world.
I smooth my palms over my uniform with an intake of breath. “We’re going to leave this cubicle and go about our day as if this never happened. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Then when we land, we forget we ever saw each other.”
“Is that what you want?”
No. I want to go back to when I was eighteen. Before I knew the truth. I want you to hold me and tell me you love me and I want to feel the way I did in the safety of your arms. But what’s done can never be undone. “It’s the only thing we can do.”
I slide the lock and squeeze past him as I force myself out of the space and retreat behind the curtain into the cabin.
My fingers curl around my neck where his touch is seared into my skin.
I take deep breaths to calm my nerves as I watch him stride back to his seat as if he owns the plane.
A complete contrast to the man a while ago who was gripping onto the armrest as if his life depended on it.
What’s happened to him since I last saw him? He never mentioned a fear of flying, but then everything that came out of his mouth was no doubt a lie.
My hands tremble, so I grip the trolley tighter and paste on a fake smile as I return to business class, the plane floor trembling beneath me, matching my limbs.
“About bloody time,” a man in a suit says.
Dan spins his head around as he stands in the aisle, reaching for his bag in the overhead locker.
“I’m sorry, sir. What can I do for you?” I put on my best mask and smile at the man.
“You can do your bloody job properly. That’s what. I’ve been waiting ages for a bloody drink.”
Smiling through gritted teeth, I keep my mask in place. “I’m sorry. Would you like tea, coffee, or—”
“Vodka. And hurry the fuck up, would you?”
“Yes, sir.” I bend over and retrieve a small bottle of vodka from the trolley.
If my years of marriage taught me anything, it’s obedience.
Silently, I curse myself for putting up with passengers like him, but the last thing I need is any more drama in my life.
As I straighten my spine, I’m met with a wall of muscle at my back.
Goose bumps break out on my skin as D’Angelo’s intoxicating scent surrounds me.
Dan sniggers and takes the small bottle of vodka from my hand. “Allow me.” He grips the man’s face between his finger and thumb. “I think you need to apologise to the flight attendant.”
My eyes widen. “Sir. Please take a seat.” My lips form a tight line as I glare at Dan.
The man spits out, “Fuck you.” He has no idea what Dan’s capable of.
Dan unscrews the cap with his teeth, then shoves the bottle in the man’s mouth, forcing him to guzzle it down or risk choking.
I gasp, and look around, checking for any sign of an air marshal before this gets out of hand.
The man’s fingers claw at Dan’s arm, but Dan remains calm and removes the bottle.
“You must’ve been thirsty,” Dan says, inspecting the empty bottle. “Grace, hand me another. Let’s give the passenger what he’s asked for.”
I should stop him. Tell him I don’t need saving, but watching him stand up for me is the first time I’ve felt seen in years. A part of me doesn’t want him to stop. Not this time. Not when it feels this good to be visible again.
The man gasps for breath. “You’re fucking crazy, man. Security,” he shouts.
“Yes, let’s get security, shall we? You need to learn some fucking manners.” Dan turns to me. “Grace, another bottle, please.”
My pulse throbs in my neck, but on the surface, I remain graceful, like a swan. Underneath I’m kicking my legs just to stay afloat. With another glare at Dan, I turn around and bend down to retrieve another bottle from the trolley.
“All right. I’m fucking sorry, okay?” The man’s face burns red.
“Don’t say it to me. Say it to the lady who’s serving you.”
He tilts his head. “I’m sorry, miss.”
Dan pats the man’s knee. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Can I have a bottle of water, miss?” the man asks. “Please.”
Dan sniggers as he walks back to his seat.
I roll my eyes. Some things never change.
There was a time I'd have told someone like this man to go to hell, but after what I've endured, a few snarky words seem miniscule.
I'm conditioned not to cause a scene. Keep my head down and get on with my job. Another reason why I cannot and will not allow Dan back into my life. He would disrupt the safe space I’ve built for me and my son.
After serving a few more passengers, I pour Dan a whiskey before he asks, knowing that was always his go-to drink. “It’s not the finest brand, but it’ll take the edge off.”
His fingers wrap around the glass over mine, sending an electrical current through my bloodstream. “Thank you, Grace.”
I smile and lean down to whisper, “You didn’t need to get involved back there. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”
He gulps, his sight lined up to my cleavage. “I already told you, I can see that. But I’ll never stop protecting my flower.”
Our eyes lock again and it’s like a zap to the heart each time he uses the pet name against me.
It’s as if all the other stuff doesn’t matter.
For a split second, I’m his and everything feels right in the world.
But I barely survived the fallout the last time I let him in.
If I fall for his lies again, I’m not crashing alone.
I’m taking my son with me. And I can’t let that happen.