Chapter 109: My Husband Is Making It Hard to Stay Mad At His Vampire Ass

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"A private jet." Lorenzo corrected.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, forgive me. I wouldn’t want to insult your very humble transportation arrangements."

He gave a low chuckle as he stepped out of the car, then held out his hand to help me down. I accepted it, although my attention immediately returned to the aircraft.

"This is ridiculous," I murmured, walking closer.

"Would you prefer a commercial flight?"

I looked at him in horror. "Don’t fucking threaten me with economy class when I’m standing beside a flying mansion."

His smile widened, and he placed a hand against my lower back as he guided me toward the stairs.

I followed the crew member up, trying not to look as fascinated as I felt, although I suspected I was failing spectacularly.

The cabin was spacious and beautifully furnished, with cream-coloured seats, dark wood panels, soft lighting, and a small dining area that looked more comfortable than most hotel rooms I had seen.

There was even a bedroom toward the back.

I stopped in the middle of the cabin and stared. "Do you sleep here when traveling, Dracula?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you eat here?"

"Yes, Alex."

"Do you have a bathroom?"

Lorenzo looked at me with an expression of deep amusement. "Several, actually."

I turned to him. "Wow...so cool!"

For a brief moment, I wondered if I would have been able to afford my own private jet if Lorenzo had given me that seventy million and actually signed the divorce papers.

How much were these things anyway?

I settled into one of the seats beside the window while Lorenzo sat opposite me, speaking briefly with the crew before we prepared for departure.

I watched every movement with open curiosity, from the way the staff checked the cabin to the way the pilots communicated with the control tower.

When the aircraft finally began to move, I gripped the armrests without thinking.

Lorenzo noticed immediately.

"Are you nervous?"

"No," I said, tightening my grip as the jet turned toward the runway. "I’m simply holding on to the furniture because I respect it."

He smiled but didn’t tease me, instead reaching across the small space between us to rest his hand over mine.

The pressure was warm and reassuring, and I found myself relaxing slightly as the aircraft accelerated.

A moment later, the ground seemed to fall away beneath us, and my stomach lifted in a strange sensation that made me gasp.

"Oh, my God!"

Lorenzo laughed softly. "Are you all right, love?"

"We’re flying! I can’t believe I’m flying!"

"That is generally what aircraft are designed to do."

I ignored him, pressing closer to the window as the lights below grew smaller and the city gradually disappeared beneath the darkening sky. "Woah...!"

I had seen airplanes in the distance before, and I had watched them take off from roads near the airport, but I had never imagined what it would feel like to be inside one.

The sensation was unfamiliar and almost impossible to describe, and for a little while, I forgot about Blair, the Sinclairs, and the complicated nature of my marriage.

I was simply a person sitting in a flying machine, watching the world shrink beneath me.

"You’re smiling so brightly," Lorenzo remarked.

I glanced at him. "I’m allowed to smile."

"Of course."

"Don’t sound so surprised."

"I’m not surprised, tesoro. I enjoy seeing you happy."

I looked away before he could see how much that simple statement affected me, pretending to be deeply interested in the clouds outside.

The sky had darkened considerably, and the scattered lights of the city were now little more than distant stars beneath us. I leaned back in my seat, still watching the window as the aircraft levelled out.

After a while, Lorenzo moved to sit beside me, his arm resting along the back of my seat.

"Did your family never travel?" he asked. "It seems like this is your first time on a aircraft."

The question caught me off guard, and I turned toward him before looking back out of the window.

"Oh...they did actually."

He waited.

"My father and Lydia travelled quite often," I continued, keeping my gaze fixed on the darkness outside. "Business trips, holidays, visits to friends. Sometimes they went away for weeks. Blair usually went with them."

"And you?"

I gave a small shrug. "I stayed home."

Lorenzo didn’t respond immediately, and I found myself rubbing my thumb against the edge of my sleeve, suddenly aware of how ridiculous it felt to be explaining something that had once seemed perfectly normal to me.

"They didn’t want people to know about me," I said eventually.

"That the great fucking Richard Sinclair had an illegitimate Omega son, and that wasn’t exactly the sort of information he wanted attached to his name. I was kept out of photographs, family gatherings, and pretty much anything that involved people who weren’t already aware of my existence. They only let me out when they wanted to parade me as an Omega looking for a mate."

My voice remained casual, but I could feel the old discomfort creeping into my chest as I spoke.

"They used to tell me it was for my own good, which was an interesting way of explaining why I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or even my own room without permission. I suppose I should be grateful they didn’t make me wear a paper bag over my head whenever visitors came around."

Lorenzo’s expression had grown still, his eyes fixed on my face.

"I used to look at pictures of the places they visited," I continued, attempting a smile. "Blair would come back with photographs and souvenirs, and I’d ask her what everything looked like. Sometimes she’d tell me about the hotels or the restaurants they went to even we weren’t trying to strangle eachother, and I’d imagine what it would be like to see those places myself."

I swallowed, then looked down at my hands. "I think I spent more time imagining the outside world than actually living in it."

For a moment, the only sound between us was the steady hum of the aircraft. I wondered if I had said too much, if I had somehow turned a perfectly ordinary conversation into something unnecessarily depressing.

I was usually very good at making jokes out of my childhood, mostly because humour was easier to manage than the alternative, but there were times when the memories slipped through before I could dress them up in something more entertaining.

Lorenzo lifted a hand and gently turned my face toward him, his fingers settling beneath my chin.

His expression was difficult to read, although there was something unusually tender in his eyes as he studied me.

"Look at me, Alex."

I did, reluctantly.

"You were a child," he said quietly. "You should never have been made to feel that your existence was something to hide."

My throat tightened, and I tried to shrug it off. "Well, I suppose I wasn’t exactly the most convenient family accessory."

"Don’t."

The single word was gentle, but it carried enough weight to stop me from continuing.

Lorenzo leaned closer and kissed me, his hand still holding my chin as his other arm moved around my waist.

The kiss was deep but unhurried, deliberate enough that I could feel the reassurance behind it, and I found myself closing my eyes as his thumb brushed my cheek.

There was no demand in the gesture, no expectation that I should respond with anything more than I wanted to give.

He simply held me close, allowing the quiet of the cabin to settle around us while his warmth reminded me that I wasn’t alone in that moment.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.

"You don’t have to hide with me, tesoro."

My heart gave an inconvenient little skip, and I immediately looked away, hoping the dim cabin lighting would conceal the heat rising into my cheeks.

"That’s a very dramatic thing to say on a plane."

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to my forehead before drawing me against his chest.

I hesitated for only a moment before settling beside him, resting my head against his shoulder as his fingers moved gently through my hair.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the tenderness he offered me, especially when it came so easily from the same man who had once refused to let me leave his house.

There were still questions between us, things I hadn’t forgiven and things he hadn’t entirely changed, but I couldn’t deny that his words had reached a part of me I usually kept carefully guarded.

For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to sit quietly without searching for an excuse to pull away from his touch.

The flight lasted several hours, and somewhere along the way, I dozed off against Lorenzo’s shoulder.

I woke briefly when a member of the crew brought us refreshments, only to find that Lorenzo had adjusted the blanket over me and was reading something on his tablet.

I accepted a glass of water, mumbled a thank-you, and settled back into my seat, occasionally glancing out of the window as the dark sky slowly began to change.

By the time the aircraft began its descent, I was awake enough to feel the familiar flutter of excitement return to my stomach.

The lights of France appeared beneath us, spreading across the landscape in clusters that grew larger as we approached the airport.

I leaned toward the window, watching the city come into view as the plane descended through the clouds.

"That’s Paris?!" I asked, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Yes, tesoro."

I smiled, pressing my palm against the window as though I could somehow get closer to the city through it.

I had imagined this moment so many times that it felt strange to finally be experiencing it, and even stranger to know that Lorenzo was sitting beside me, watching my reaction with quiet amusement.

The wheels touched the runway, and the aircraft slowed as we taxied toward the private terminal.

I remained by the window, taking in the lights and unfamiliar surroundings while the crew prepared for our arrival.

When the jet finally came to a stop, Lorenzo reached for my hand and kissed the back of my palm.

"Welcome to Paris, Alex."