Chapter 4 - Above the Clouds
The interior of the Gulfstream looked less like an airplane and more like a five-star penthouse suite suspended in the stratosphere.
White leather club chairs, polished walnut tables, and a private back cabin outfitted with a plush queen-sized lounge dominated the space. Two silent flight attendants moved with ghost-like efficiency, serving artisanal coffee in porcelain cups while the city of New York shrank away beneath a blanket of gray clouds.
Lily was entirely fascinated. She pressed her face against the triple-paned oval window, watching the earth dissolve into a mosaic of green fields and distant rivers.
Dominic sat across the aisle from Sophia, a black leather briefcase open on his lap, reviewing encrypted financial reports on a matte-black tablet. Yet, despite the billions of dollars flashing across his screen, his attention seemed stubbornly divided.
He watched as Sophia carefully unwrapped a small container of sliced apples she had packed for Lily, handing them over with a quiet, practiced patience.
"You didn't sleep," Dominic observed without looking up from his screen.
Sophia stiffened. "I had a lot on my mind."
"Because of me, or because of your father?"
"Both, if we’re being entirely honest," Sophia snapped, her defensive walls finally snapping back into place. "Mr. Moretti—Dominic—this is insane. When we land in Lancaster, what am I supposed to tell my family? ‘Hi, Dad, this is my new boyfriend. He owns half of Manhattan and probably has an international arrest warrant in three different European countries’?"
Dominic finally lowered his tablet. He folded his hands over the screen, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a piercing, unblinking intensity.
"You tell them I’m a venture capitalist," he said smoothly. "You tell them we met at a corporate charity gala in the city three months ago. You tell them I’m quiet, ambitious, and utterly devoted to you."
Sophia stared at him. "And when my father asks what my intentions are?"
A slow, dangerous smile curved Dominic’s lips—a smile that held the ghost of every ruthless negotiation he had ever won.
"You tell him," Dominic whispered, leaning slightly forward, "that your intentions are entirely secure."
Before Sophia could formulate a reply, the cockpit intercom chimed softly.
“Mr. Moretti, we’re beginning our descent into Lancaster Airport. Weather is clear, forty-five degrees, wind from the west at ten knots.”
May you like
Dominic closed his briefcase with a sharp click. He looked out the window as the sprawling, patchwork quilt of Pennsylvania farmland rose up to meet them.
"Here we go, Sophia," he said softly, standing up and smoothing the front of his coat. "Time to meet the farmer."
