Nova Lane stared at her email once again, believing that eyes were deceiving her. An all-expense paid trip to Italy as a senior editor! And the salary would be enough to cover her mortgage on her tiny New York apartment, let alone beef up her savings. If she wanted to, she could go on a long holiday after this job, she thought, laughing giddily.
She read the email looking for the location, before she could file for temporary leave at Brooke’s publishing.
“Catskills? Where the hell is that?” she asked. “Huh, looks like it’s somewhere in Italy.”
The name of the client, however, was blotted out. Nova was skeptical. Why would there be such an impressive opportunity, but the name of the client is unmentioned? But the more she thought about it, the more she was drawn in. It was like a constant, steady pull. Who could blame her? The allure of the beautiful streets of Florence, the dozens, if not millions, of touristy things she’d always wanted to do when she traveled, and they're being given to her free of charge.
Nova clicked on the link, filled in her details and had an e-pass sent to her before the night was out. Her curls pulled back in a French braid, she stretched back in her chair, her storm-grey eyes taking in her shabby apartment.
To be fair, she doubted anyone would miss her presence in New York. She was always exhausted, tired of always doing dead-end freelancing gigs to supplement her equally wanting pay from the publishing house. 'It would hurt to be cautious', she mused.
When her mother was still alive, she tried to be a dutiful daughter, excelling at her studies, working part-time to earn money and helping ease her mother’s burden. Not to lie, she loved her mother, but it was hard on them both because they so rarely saw each other, too tired at the end of each day to have a long decent conversation.
One night, when Nova was still in her second year of college, her mother went to sleep, and never woke up the next day. The neighbors found her after the morning walk with their dogs that insistently barked and scratched at her door. The doctor said it was chronic exhaustion…there was just never enough money when it came to her mother.
Lesson learned: never let the needs of the world overshadow your own. And at twenty-six years, she had lived on her own terms, her life of freedom, or so she thought. So why did it end up being just as exhausting?
Nova shut down her laptop, packing it away before proceeding to her luggage. It would be a long six months, and she intended to enjoy every single moment that came while she worked. After this job, she was going to take a proper holiday. A year of leave sounded like heaven to her.
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Two weeks later
Nova was a tall, striking auburn who turned heads, who turned heads wherever she went, but it seemed to go without her notice. She was always focused on trying to get the next gig, the next article and next paycheck that dating always fell to the wayside.
Her lean build made its way to the terminal that appeared on the pass. The kind lady at the counter pointed out that she didn’t need to check in because she had a pass for a private plane. Nova’s eyes doubled as she looked at her, then quickly looked at her pass as though looking at it for the first time. What a way to find out that she was supposed to jet out on a private jet.
She laughed sheepishly, before grabbing her carry-on luggage. Following the directions, she was able to find the exit onto the strip, and found the seemingly understated aircraft already parked and waiting for her.
Nova was instantly blown away by the interior of the plane, quietly reminding herself not to act like a schmuck as she tried to blend in.
“Miss Lane, welcome. We hope you enjoy your flight with us,” said the air host, gesturing for her to take one of the many available seats. Even the chair was plush, almost enough to make her feel uncomfortable, but not so much that she would not enjoy her ride. It was approximately ten hours to her destination, and she spied a bed at the back calling to her in the next three hours.
The plane took off smoothly, with hardly any turbulence, which put Nova’s stomach at ease. But after a few sips on the champagne she had been served in the last hour, she dozed off.
It was during this time that a mysterious, dark-haired man with piercing gold eyes began to haunt- no, that wasn’t right- to inhabit her dream. She then saw a large black wolf at his side. The man then faded away, leaving the wolf standing in his place. It felt as though his presence was right by her side.
Nova felt herself being shaken awake. She shrieked as though the wolf was still standing in front of her. Panting, she looked up to see the concerned face of the air host. She had checked in on her earlier and found her dozing, but found her moaning in distress and sweat trekking down the sides of her face about five hours later.
Looking around her, she saw that the outside of the plane was notably dark. The air host had come to inform her that they were about to arrive, ascertaining that Nova was okay before heading back to the cabin, the pilot’s voice streaming in, asking them to brace for landing.
They had arrived in Florence, her new home, for the next six months. The plane door opened, and Nova was hit by the humid summer air of Italy, a great change from New York, which she had never left all her life.
She was tempted to kiss the ground when she stepped onto the tarmac, the dream she’d just had still lingering in the surface of her memory. It felt as though she had returned home.
There stood a matte-black Rolls-Royce, with a stereotypical butler-like dressed man. 'That couldn’t possibly be the person they said would pick me up,' she pondered, looking skeptically at the man. He tipped his hat at her as though in recognition and opened the door for her.
Nova had never received such special treatment, feeling like a royal. She quietly reminded herself that it was for a limited time and that she should not get too comfortable. It would be hard to go back to living the way she’d been living after wallowing herself in so much luxury. And in no time, they had arrived at what would be the Catskills estate, the home of her reclusive benefactor and client.
The vehicle came to a stop before a massive villa, the crescent moon and a few lights surrounding the outer area being the only source of light. Nova stepped out of the car, gaping at her surroundings, her mouth almost opening at the expansiveness of the home and compound. She turned around, trying to absorb the sight, coming right back to the villa.
On the top floor, at the lone broad balcony, stood a tall, broad-shouldered man, his presence cold, commanding and intimidating. He had been watching her the whole time.