Breathless ✓

Twenty-Three ✔

The descent into the Italian airspace brings a sense of anticipation, and soon, the private jet touches down on the tarmac. The moment the engines power down, Christian springs into action. He retrieves a sleek black suit from a concealed compartment, transforming his demeanour. His face adopts a cold, detached mask, and he becomes the epitome of composed authority.

The jet's door opens, revealing a meticulously coordinated operation on the ground. Armed guards, dressed in sharp suits, line up in formation, their expressions unreadable behind dark sunglasses. A fleet of black cars, each with tinted windows, awaits with military precision.

Christian gestures for me to follow him as he steps off the jet. The transition is abrupt—from the intimate cocoon of the plane's interior to the grandeur of the reception on the ground. The air is thick with formality and protocol.

His exchanges with the guards are concise, each gesture calculated. There's no warmth in his demeanour as he issues orders, and the guards respond with unquestioning efficiency. It's a world of power and influence, a stark contrast to the vulnerable moments we shared on the jet.

As we make our way through the security detail, I catch glimpses of Christian's other life—the one he tried to shield me from. He navigates this world with a familiarity that sends a shiver down my spine. The authority he commands, the unyielding mask of control, reveals a side of him I hadn't fathomed.

I remain close, a silent observer to this orchestrated display of might. It's then that I realise the gravity of Christian's presence in this realm—a realm that extends far beyond the protective confines of our shared moments on the jet.

The convoy of cars departs from the airport, weaving through the Italian streets with a precision that borders on military precision. The city lights blur outside the tinted windows, and Christian remains focused, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

His composure is unwavering, and I can't help but feel a certain distance between us. The man who kissed me just hours ago now wears the mask of a formidable figure, the complexities of his identity unraveling with every passing moment.

As the convoy arrives at an estate nestled on the outskirts of the city, I realize that the secrets Christian harbours run deeper than I could have ever imagined. The mansion, surrounded by high walls and guarded by an intimidating security detail, serves as a fortress in this clandestine world.

Christian's mansion looms before us, an opulent structure that sprawls across acres of manicured grounds. The grandeur of the estate is overwhelming, with pristine lawns, sculpted gardens, and lakes that shimmer in the moonlight. As we approach the entrance, guarded by imposing gates, the enormity of Christian's world becomes even more apparent.

The convoy comes to a halt, and the doors of the cars open in unison. Christian steps out first, and I follow suit, still taking in the sheer scale of the estate. The air is filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of water from the nearby lakes.

Christian wears the mask of the composed authority once again, interacting with the guards stationed at the entrance. The heavy gates swing open, revealing a driveway that leads to the front of the mansion. The façade is illuminated by soft lights, casting an ethereal glow on the impressive architecture.

As we ascend the grand staircase to the entrance, the door swings open, revealing the vast expanse of the mansion's interior. Marble floors, towering columns, and intricate chandeliers create an atmosphere of luxury and sophistication. The echoes of our footsteps reverberate through the cavernous space.

Christian leads me through the mansion, passing through elegant halls adorned with priceless art and tasteful décor. The rooms are spacious, each with a view that captures the beauty of the sprawling estate. It's a world of privilege and excess, a stark contrast to the simplicity of my life before.