Chapter Seven: Entering His World
680 Words
The jet was quieter than Lara expected.
Not silent, just subdued, as if even sound had learned restraint in Ethan Blackwood’s presence. The soft hum of the engines blended with the muted glow of cabin lights, and for a moment, Lara felt suspended between where she’d been and where she was going.
She sat across from him, hands folded in her lap, posture careful.
“You don’t have to look so tense,” Ethan said, closing the file in his hands. “It won’t bite.”
She glanced around the luxurious cabin. “I’ve never flown like this before.”
“Private?”
“Without needing to justify why I’m here.”
His eyes flickered. “You don’t need to justify anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” she replied. “This is normal for you.”
He studied her. “Normal is relative.”
The trip was necessary, he’d explained. A week in Monaco for negotiations with international partners. He’d offered casually, too casually for her to come along to manage logistics and coordination.
She’d said yes after a long pause.
Now she wondered if she’d agreed too quickly.
“You grew up where?” Ethan asked suddenly.
“Surulere,” she replied. “Small flat. Busy streets. Loud neighbors.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “That explains why silence doesn’t soothe you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You noticed?”
“I notice patterns,” he said. “You hum when it’s too quiet.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “I didn’t realize.”
“You don’t,” he replied gently. “That’s the point.”
She looked out the window, the clouds rolling endlessly. “And you? Where did you grow up?”
He hesitated.
“England,” he said finally. “Big house. Cold halls. Too many rules.”
“That doesn’t sound like luxury,” she said softly.
“It was,” he replied. “Just not warmth.”
Monaco glittered.
The hotel overlooked the sea, white marble and gold accents catching the sun. Lara followed Ethan through the lobby, trying not to stare, trying not to feel small.
“This is overwhelming,” she admitted once they reached the elevator.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m not sure if I want to.”
That made him smile.
Later that evening, after meetings and handshakes and endless introductions, they found themselves alone on the balcony of his suite.
The ocean stretched endlessly before them, moonlight dancing on the water.
“You belong here,” Ethan said quietly.
She shook her head. “I’m visiting. There’s a difference.”
He leaned against the railing. “Why are you so determined not to fit?”
“Because fitting in has a cost,” she replied. “And I’ve spent too long paying it.”
He turned toward her, eyes searching. “What cost?”
“Losing myself,” she said simply.
The honesty in her voice caught him off guard.
“I lost myself a long time ago,” he admitted.
She looked at him then not the billionaire, not the employer, but the man beneath. “You don’t have to stay lost.”
Silence settled between them, warm and heavy.
As the night deepened, Ethan offered her a glass of wine.
“Just one,” she said.
“Of course.”
They sat close, too close on the outdoor sofa.
“You’re different here,” she said softly.
“In what way?”
“Less guarded.”
He smiled faintly. “Maybe because you don’t expect anything from me.”
She met his gaze. “Maybe because I see you, not the headlines.”
Something in his expression shifted.
He reached out, stopping just short of touching her hand. “Lara…”
She didn’t move away.
But she didn’t move closer either.
The line still existed.
Barely.
That night, alone in her room, Lara lay awake listening to the distant waves.
She was inside his world now.
And stepping back out might be harder than she’d imagined.
- Writer
