Chapter 5
I followed Nolan up the jet’s stairs, my legs shaking with each step. The interior took my breath away – all polished wood and cream leather seats. Far from the commercial flights I was used to.
A flight attendant in a crisp uniform appeared at my side. “Ms. Thorne, please let me show you to your seat.”
Two more attendants materialized, carrying bottles of water and an array of fresh fruit and snacks. They arranged everything on the table in front of my seat with practiced efficiency.
“Would you prefer still or sparkling water?” One asked, holding both options.
“I… still is fine.” I sank into the plush leather seat, watching in bewilderment as they continued to fuss over me.
Another attendant appeared with a blanket and pillow. “These are Egyptian cotton, Ms.
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Thorne. Please let us know if you need anything else.”
I caught Nolan’s eye across the cabin, silently pleading for some explanation. He gave me a reassuring nod before pulling out his phone.
The engines hummed to life as he stepped toward the back of the jet, his voice low but clear in the quiet cabin.
“Boss, I’ve picked her up. We’ll be back in two hours.”
My stomach twisted. Boss? The way everyone deferred to us, the private jet, the VIP treatment… What kind of world had my brother gotten involved in during our years apart?
The flight attendants continued their choreographed dance around me, offering champagne, adjusting the lighting, ensuring my comfort. But my mind was stuck on that one word: Boss.
I fidgeted in my seat, stealing glances at
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Nolan across the aisle. Questions burned in my throat, but each time I opened my mouth, he’d flash that disarming smile.
“Just a bit longer,” he kept saying, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.
My fingers traced patterns on the leather armrest. “Can you at least tell me how you know my brother?”
“Adam will explain everything himself.” He leaned back, crossing his long legs. “Trust me, it’s better coming from him.”
The flight passed in a blur of luxury and unanswered questions. As we descended, Nolan pulled two black face masks from his jacket pocket.
“Here.” He handed one to me. “Security protocol.”
“Security? What-”
“Emma.” His voice softened. “Please.”
I slipped the mask on, watching him do the same. The fabric was soft against my skin,
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clearly expensive like everything else about this surreal journey.
The airport terminal buzzed with activity, but not the usual chaos I expected. Men in black suits lined our path, their earpieces. glinting under fluorescent lights. They nodded at Nolan as we passed, their faces impassive.
Outside, a fleet of black vehicles stretched along the curb. Rolls–Royces, Bentleys, Mercedes each more luxurious than the last. Nolan guided me to the most impressive one, its black paint gleaming like oil in the sunlight.
He opened the rear door with a slight bow. “Your chariot awaits.”
I hesitated at the door, my heart hammering against my ribs. What had my brother been doing these past nine years? What kind of world was I stepping into?
I slid into the car’s plush leather interior. Nolan settled beside me, his presence both
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reassuring and unsettling. The partition between us and the driver was already up, creating an intimate bubble of silence.
The car glided through traffic like we were floating on air. I pressed my face against the tinted window, watching the city blur past until buildings gave way to sprawling
estates.
My breath caught as we turned onto a private drive. Through the iron gates, a mansion rose before us. Perfectly manicured gardens stretched in every direction, dotted with fountains that sparkled in the afternoon sun.
“Where are we?” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away from the magnificent
structure.
“Home,” Nolan said simply.
The car came to a stop at the base of wide marble steps. Nolan was out first,
extending his hand to help me. My legs felt unsteady as I emerged, overwhelmed by
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the grandeur surrounding me.
I took hesitant steps forward, my heels clicking against the stone. The mansion loomed above, its windows gleaming like diamonds. But what stopped me in my tracks wasn’t the building – it was the man standing at the top of the steps.
He stood tall and commanding, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that
emphasized his broad shoulders. Power radiated from him like a physical force. But it was his smile that made my heart stutter – a smile I’d know anywhere, even after
nine years.
“Adam?” My voice cracked on his name.
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