The plane sliced through the clouds, and as Beauty watched the white masses gather and disperse outside the window, her heart sank along with them.
Each time she returned to New York from Chicago, the feeling was different.
Beside her, Lucas had leaned his head against the pillow and soon fallen asleep.
He was clearly exhausted, yet he had stubbornly fought to keep his eyes open until now, when he could finally rest without worry.
Bored, Beauty flipped through the magazine on her tray table again and again, but her mind was filled with memories of all the experiences she had shared with Lucas—they lingered, impossible to shake.
By the time the plane landed on the rooftop helipad of the Marson Enterprises hotel, Lucas was already awake.
The moment he stood up and slipped into his suit, any trace of fatigue vanished from his face.
"Mr. Marson, would you prefer to rest at the hotel for a while, or shall we head straight back to the office?"
