The Cage Of Seduction.

Chapter 7 - The Private Plane.

Inside, the restaurant was shabby and unkempt. They were seated at a corner table, but the murmurs of curiosity followed them as they made their way to their seats.

The meal began with an air of unease. The tension escalated when the service was abysmally slow. Liam’s irritation reached a boiling point, and he finally confronted the owner, a balding man with an exhausted look.

“Listen,” Liam snapped, his voice taut with anger, “we’ve been waiting forever. This is absurd. I expect decent service when I’m paying top dollar.”

The owner, clearly irritated and defensive, shot back, “Wait your turn, you motherfucker. It’s been a madhouse in here today. What do you want me to do, magic the food into your hands?”

Liam broke into a cold devilish laughter. “Magic? You think this is a joke? I’ve had enough of your crap. I want the bill now, and I want to speak to your manager, not some sorry excuse for a waiter.”

The owner’s face flushed with anger. “You think you’re special because you’re dressed like a walking advertisement? Too bad that I need to tell you to shut up and wait. Or walk out and go elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Liam roared, his voice escalating. “You think you can talk to me like that? You’re a miserable, incompetent fool who can’t even manage a simple restaurant. Your entire operation is a joke.”

The owner’s temper flared. “And you’re just a poor asshole who thinks he has money and that it  can buy everything. This place isn’t good enough for you? Maybe you should shove your money where the sun don’t shine and get the hell out!”

Liam’s face was a mask of fury. “You know what? Forget the bill. I’m buying this, and then I’m going to burn it to the ground. I ain't got no time to spare over this bullshit.”

With a swift, angry gesture, Liam pulled out a thick wad of cash from his blazer and slammed it on the table.

“Here’s your payment. Consider this place sold. Now get the hell out, and don’t come back.”

The staff and patrons, stunned and alarmed, scrambled to gather their things and flee. Just then, Liam retrieved a lighter from his pocket and set fire to a tablecloth with deliberate anger.

The flames quickly spread across the wooden tables and décor, engulfing the small restaurant in a roaring blaze. The fire’s glow illuminated the night, casting a fierce light on the wreckage.

Outside, the people who had fled the restaurant and the angry owner watched in stunned silence as the building was consumed by flames.

The acrid smell of burning wood filled the air, mingling with the smoke that billowed into the night sky.

Elara, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and fascination, clung to Liam as he took her hand and led her away. As they approached the Aston Martin, Liam glanced back at the fire, his face cold and satisfied.

As they drove off into the evening, his hand slipped into her pants, and Elara’s breath hitched as his touch met her skin, a shiver of surprise and anticipation coursing through her.

The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the confined space of the car, the closeness making each sensation more intense.

His fingers explored with a careful, teasing touch, tracing the curve of her hip and the softness of her inner thigh. Elara’s gasp was a soft, breathy sound, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the pleasure building inside her. Liam was confident all the while, and he knew what he was trying to do.

“Don't worry darling, no one can hear you” Liam whispered, his voice low and filled with a dark, intimate promise. His touch grew bolder, his fingers slipping further into her, exploring her with a blend of gentleness and intensity that left her breathless.

Elara’s body responded eagerly, her hips shifting in time with his touch, her moans growing louder as the sensation built to an overwhelming crescendo. Liam went faster as Elara’s climax approached.

The dashboard, now with splashes of water, glistened in the sunlight filtering through the windows. “Sorry princess, but I was pretty bored,” said Liam.

After an hour, they arrived at a secluded private airport, a hidden gem owned by one of Liam's well-connected acquaintances.

Liam’s eyes were alight with a cold determination as he revealed their next move to Elara.

“We’re heading to a new safehouse in Italy,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “It’s the perfect location for us to dig into the Crimson Vortex gang. They won’t see us coming.”

Elara's eyes widened with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation as she glanced around the dimly lit airport, the enormity of their journey settling over her like a dark veil.

Liam expertly maneuvered the Aston Martin into the cargo space of a sleek private jet, it's dark exterior blending seamlessly with the encroaching night.

The subtle hum of the plane’s engines was the only sound as Liam strode purposefully towards the cockpit. Elara’s heart skipped a beat when Liam casually informed her that he would be piloting the aircraft himself.

Her initial shock was palpable, her eyes darting from the imposing figure of the jet to Liam’s confident stride. “You’re flying us to Italy?” she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Liam’s smirk, shadowed by the dim lights of the hangar, only deepened her sense of unease and fascination.

“Don’t worry princess, I won’t let you die in a plane crash so soon.”