Domenico's POV
By the time we arrived at the private airfield, the jet was already prepped and waiting. The crew stood in position and the engines hummed low, ready for takeoff.
The pilot stepped forward first, followed closely by the rest of the crew.
"Welcome, sir." He greeted, and they all bowed.
Without so much as a glance in their direction, I walked past them in silence, my attention already elsewhere as I ascended the steps and boarded the jet.
Behind me, my newlywed bride offered the crew a polite greeting before ascending the steps. I didn't look back as she followed—didn't need to.
I could feel her.
Tension clung to her like a second skin—sharp, volatile, and barely contained beneath the surface. It followed her up the steps, into the jet, and into the quiet space between
