I watchElle tuck her tablet away, her slender fingers moving with practiced efficiency. There’s something captivating about her—the way she holds herself together, all proper angles and professional barriers, while three Alphas circle like hungry sharks.
I wonder what it would take to make those barriers crumble. To see what happens when all that careful control finally breaks.
Adrian thinks he has her figured out, but I can see the fire she keeps banked behind those dark eyes. It’s the same fire I’ve seen in opponents right before I destroy them in negotiations—except with Elle, I don’t want destruction. I want surrender.
The plane jolts again, harder this time. Our drinks slosh dangerously close to the rims of our glasses. Miles grips his armrests, knuckles white against the leather. Adrian pretends to be unbothered, but I catch the slight tightening around his eyes. Control freak hates when control is impossible.
Elle, though—she’s interesting. Her face goes carefully blank, but her pulse flutters visibly at her throat. When the plane dropssuddenly, her breathing hitches, just once. Adrian’s hand moves—an aborted gesture, like he wants to steady her but catches himself. I file that away. Useful.
“Enjoying the ride?” I ask her, keeping my voice light and playful.
Her eyes meet mine, unimpressed. “Immensely.”
“I’ve always thought turbulence is like good sex,” I continue, ignoring Adrian’s warning glare. “Unpredictable. Intense. Leaves you a little breathless.”
Miles snorts from his corner. “Do you ever think before you speak, Rios?”
“Thinking’s overrated,” I grin, even as the plane shudders violently. “Living’s more fun.”
The cabin lights flicker, and for the first time, genuine concern crosses Elle’s face. It’s subtle—most wouldn’t notice—but I’m good at reading people. It’s what makes me valuable to Synercom. That, and my willingness to push boundaries others won’t.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom, tension bleeding through his professional tone, “we’re encountering significant turbulence due to an unexpected storm system. I apologize for the inconvenience, but we’ll need to make an unscheduled landing to wait it out.”
Adrian’s head snaps up. “Unscheduled landing? Where?”
The flight attendant appears, her practiced smile strained at the edges. “We’ll be touching down at Pulau Emerald in approximately twenty minutes. It’s a private island resort withlanding facilities. The pilot believes the storm will pass within 24-48 hours, at which point we can continue to Singapore.”
“48 hours?” Adrian’s voice could freeze hellfire. “The summit begins tomorrow morning.”
“I understand, sir. The airline is already coordinating with the summit organizers to adjust your presentation slots. Your safety is our priority.”
“Our schedule is the priority,” Adrian counters, but the plane drops again, this time violently enough that even he grabs his armrest.
The flight attendant’s smile tightens. “I’ll make sure you’re all comfortable at the resort while we wait out the storm.”
After she retreats, Miles finally looks up from his tablet. “Pulau Emerald. Exclusive. Expensive. Fifteen private villas, usually booked months in advance by celebrities and billionaires.”
Of course Harrington would know the place. Titan Global probably owns shares in it.
“Well,” I say, stretching my legs out, “if we’re being grounded, at least it’s somewhere with decent booze.”
Elle closes her eyes briefly. I can almost see her mentally recalculating a thousand details—meetings, presentations, the careful architecture of schedules now collapsing like a house of cards. When she opens them again, she’s already in problem-solving mode.
“I’ll contact the summit coordinators and see if we can present remotely,” she says to Adrian, fingers flying over her phone. “We might still make the keynote slot if we set up a secure connection.”
She’s good. Adaptable. I like that in a woman—in anyone, really. Life’s too unpredictable for rigid plans, something Adrian’s never understood.
The plane begins its descent, banking sharply through dark clouds. Rain lashes against the windows, transforming the view into a watery smear. Through breaks in the clouds, I catch glimpses of turquoise water and white sand beaches, the kind that normally feature in vacation fantasies, not business trip nightmares.
“At least the scenery will be nice while we’re stranded,” I observe, trying to lighten the mood.
Elle doesn’t respond, too busy sending rapid-fire emails. Adrian stares grimly out the window like the storm is a personal affront. Miles, oddly, seems the most relaxed he’s been since we boarded, almost like he’s pleased with this development.
The landing is rough. The plane bounces once, twice on the rain-slick runway before finally settling with a shudder. Rain hammers against the fuselage, and wind rocks us even after we’ve stopped. The flight attendant returns, remarkably composed given the circumstances.
“Welcome to Pulau Emerald,” she says. “The resort staff will escort you to your accommodations. Unfortunately, with the unexpected nature of our arrival, availability is limited. The airline has arranged for the best possible accommodations under the circumstances.”
Adrian stands, straightening his impeccable suit. “I assume we’ll each have private rooms.”
