Tempting the Billionaire

Chapter Three: The Flight

Serena arrived at Blackwood Tower promptly at seven in the morning, her bag slung over her shoulder and her nerves a tangled mess. She had barely stepped through the revolving doors when a tall man in a crisp black suit approached her.

"Miss Vale?" he asked, his tone polite but firm.

She nodded.

"Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. Right this way."

Serena followed the man, her heels clicking against the marble floor as they made their way through the luxurious lobby. She tried to ignore the curious glances from employees as they passed, but it was impossible to shake the feeling that she was being scrutinized. Damian Blackwood wasn’t just any billionaire—he was an enigma, a force to be reckoned with. And she was about to step into his world.

The driver escorted her to a waiting black SUV. The moment she settled into the plush leather seat, she realized she was no longer in control of this situation. That realization should have terrified her, but instead, it sent a thrill through her veins.

The drive through Manhattan was silent, the city just beginning to stir awake. She watched as the streets blurred past, her thoughts racing ahead to what awaited her. When the vehicle pulled into a private airstrip, Serena blinked in surprise.

A sleek, black private jet stood before her, its exterior gleaming under the morning sun. She barely had time to process the sheer extravagance of it before the door to the jet opened and Damian Blackwood appeared at the top of the stairs.

He was dressed in a fitted white button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it moments before. He looked completely at ease—commanding, confident, and utterly devastating.

He gestured for her to come aboard. "Welcome to your first day, Miss Vale."

Serena swallowed hard and climbed the steps, stepping into the lavish interior of the jet. The cabin was furnished with plush leather seats, a polished mahogany table, and a fully stocked bar. It was, in every sense, the epitome of luxury.

"I wasn’t expecting a private jet," she admitted, settling into one of the seats.

Damian smirked as he poured himself a drink. "You’re traveling with me, Serena. I don’t do commercial."

She arched a brow. "Of course not. And where exactly are we going?"

He leaned back in his seat, his dark gaze locked on hers. "Paris."

Her stomach flipped. "Paris? As in, France?"

"Is there another Paris you’d prefer?" he teased, sipping his drink.

Serena crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "I assumed our arrangement would start with something a little less…international."

He smirked. "I never do things small. Besides, you wanted full access to my life. That means following me wherever I go."

She exhaled sharply. "Fine. Paris it is."

As the engines roared to life, she felt the slight lurch of the jet moving down the runway. She gripped the armrest, steadying herself as they lifted into the sky. Damian watched her, his expression unreadable.

"Nervous?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice.

"Not at all," she lied, refusing to let him see her unease.

He chuckled, setting his drink down. "Good. Because this is only the beginning."

The flight was surprisingly smooth, but the tension in the cabin was anything but. Damian spent most of the time working, his attention on his laptop, while Serena pretended to focus on her notes. In reality, she was acutely aware of him—the way he occasionally ran a hand through his hair, the way his fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, the way his dark eyes would flick up to study her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

It was maddening.

After an hour of silence, she finally spoke. "So, what’s the purpose of this trip?"

"Business, mostly," he replied without looking up. "A few meetings, some acquisitions."

She tilted her head. "And you needed me to come along for that?"

His gaze met hers, sharp and assessing. "You agreed to have full access to my life. That means seeing all aspects of it."

She frowned. "And what exactly am I supposed to be writing about?"

His lips curved into a knowing smirk. "That, Miss Vale, is for you to figure out."

She exhaled, frustrated by his constant evasiveness. "You enjoy being cryptic, don’t you?"

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I enjoy control. There’s a difference."

Her pulse jumped at his words, but she forced herself to remain unaffected. "Control can be an illusion."

His smirk deepened. "Perhaps. But in my world, illusions are often more powerful than reality."

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. She had the distinct feeling that she was being drawn into something much bigger than she had anticipated.

Hours later, the jet touched down in Paris. The moment they stepped onto the tarmac, a black limousine was waiting for them. Serena barely had time to take in the breathtaking sight of the Paris skyline before Damian ushered her inside.

"We’re staying at my penthouse in the 8th arrondissement," he informed her as they pulled away from the airport.

Serena raised a brow. "You have a penthouse here?"

"I have several properties around the world," he said smoothly. "But this one is my favorite."

The drive through the city was a whirlwind of stunning architecture and bustling streets. By the time they arrived at the penthouse,

Serena was already overwhelmed. But nothing could have prepared her for the sheer opulence of Damian’s home.

The penthouse was perched high above the city, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the Eiffel Tower. The interior was modern and elegant—marble floors, plush furniture, and subtle touches of gold that screamed sophistication.

Serena set her bag down, trying not to gape. "This is… a lot."

Damian smirked. "You’ll get used to it."

She turned to face him, suddenly feeling the weight of their proximity. "And what exactly is expected of me here?"

His gaze darkened slightly as he stepped closer. "You observe. You write. You learn."

Her breath hitched. "And if I overstep?"

His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch featherlight yet commanding. "Then we renegotiate the terms."

The air between them crackled with tension, but before she could respond, he stepped back, his expression once again unreadable.

"Get some rest, Serena. Tomorrow, we begin."

And with that, he disappeared into his bedroom, leaving her standing there, heart pounding, completely unsure of what she had just gotten herself into.