~Becklan's POV~
Just before the driver pulled up to the mansion, Leon spoke, his eyes fixed on the house, cold and unmoving.
"Only take these new clothes along for the trip, Beck."
His voice was a strict command. "Do not wear any of that ridiculous maid uniform while we are traveling."
"Okay, sir," I agreed instantly.
Despite his coldness, a small wave of gratitude washed over me. I muttered, "Thank you."
He didn't acknowledge it. He simply sat there, staring forward.
The new boundary was clear: new clothes for me, but the dynamic of maid and master was firmly locked in place. The uniform was gone for three days, but the role remained.
Getting back inside, I went straight to arrange my own meager belongings, then headed to Leon's suite. I knocked firmly and waited until his curt voice instructed me to enter.
Leon was settled in a deep leather chair, looking entirely at ease. As soon as I entered, he started rattling off his needs, a list that sounded like it would never end. One by one, he told me what he wanted me to pack.
"The navy pinstripe suit, of course."
"The onyx cufflink set, the rectangular one, not the diamond spheres."
He paused, then added: "And the heavy cashmere overcoat. We must be prepared for the possibility of a draft."
I moved quickly, pulling items. He listed ridiculous things: three pairs of silk slippers, two sets of specialized dumbbells, and a complete set of leather-bound books.
As I struggled to fit a bulky humidifier into the second suitcase, I couldn't help myself.
"Sir, with respect," I said, holding up a giant bottle of specialized moisturizer. "This is a three-day trip, not a year-long exile."
Leon looked up, his lips curving into a perfectly condescending smirk.
"Three days, you say?" He leaned back slowly in the chair.
Leon's eyes cut into mine, savage and unforgiving.
"I might have forgotten, since you are the one inviting me on this arduous journey." He said.
He watched me struggle with the overcoat. "Perhaps you've forgotten that even a three-hour trip requires a change of persona."
The barb hit home, reminding me of my low status.
"Unlike you," he added, his voice dripping with superiority, "I don't travel light."
After his stream of sarcasm and demanding instructions, I finally managed to seal the mountain of luggage.
I turned to him, keeping my expression neutral. "Mr. President, is that all?"
He didn't lift his gaze from his tablet. "If it's not all, you will still be packing."
"Okay, I understand, sir," I confirmed.
"Goodnight, sir."
He didn't reply. He didn't even nod.
What an ugly thing, demanding thing, I thought, letting the insult settle only within my own mind.
I stepped outside, closed his door with careful quietness, and went straight to my room.
The next morning, the staff meticulously loaded Leon's six suitcases outside. I simply tucked my single, small backpack behind the driver's seat.
Leon and I slid into the back of his ridiculously luxurious car.
He turned to me. "The driver will be dropping us off at the airport."
I frowned, genuinely confused. "Mr. President, why are we heading to the airport? I thought we were going to another city nearby, not abroad. Are we… flying there, or…"
Leon didn't let me finish the question. He cut me off with the driest possible tone. "No, Beck. We're not flying there. We are jumping there."
"Okay, sir," I acknowledged quickly, keeping my expression neutral.
He stared at me, daring me to challenge him. "Just because I said it's not abroad doesn't mean we travel by peasant chariot. Since a plane is faster, we are taking it."
"We only drive," he continued haughtily, "if a plane is not geographically available in the location."
"Okay, sir," slipping back into full professionalism.
"I'm not explaining this to you," he clarified, leaning back. "I'm only stating a fact of my life."
"I get it, sir," I said quickly, just to stop him before more insults came.
The car pulled right up to the restricted entrance. The luggage handlers immediately descended upon Leon's obscene collection of bags.
We breezed through security, Leon's presence making everything seamless and fast.
Soon, we were boarding. I followed Leon down the jetway, my heart beginning to thump oddly in my chest.
As we walked onto the plane, I noticed the massive, plush seats. This was business class.
Leon settled into his spacious window seat, barely sparing me a glance.
I took the seat next to him, gripping the armrests immediately. This was my very first time flying.
The sudden shift in altitude as the plane taxied made my stomach flip. I closed my eyes tightly.
Leon must have noticed my white-knuckled grip. He turned his head slowly.
"Are you unwell, Beck?" he asked, though his tone was purely mocking, not caring.
"No, sir," I managed, eyes still shut. "I'm just… adjusting to the altitude."
"Adjusting?" He chuckled softly. "Don't tell me my invincible little chauffeur is afraid of a metal tube in the sky."
I didn't open my eyes. "It's a new experience, sir. That's all."
"Relax," he commanded, his voice oddly soft despite the sarcasm. "We are not flying on the roof. The air is perfectly fine in here."
"If you're feeling nervous," he said softly, leaning slightly closer, "just focus on my attractive body, my face, my presence. It should help calm your nerves."
I chuckled inside, a hysterical little sound. I bet if I focus on your face, I might start crying from sheer panic.
Did he just say 'attractive body'? I asked myself, shaking my head slightly. Someone needs to tell him that nothing is attractive about his superior, arrogant face.
And looking at you will never calm my nerves. It will just get me scared more.
Then, he called my name, surprisingly gently. "Beck, open your eyes. It's not that scary. Just relax."
I didn't move. My grip remained iron-tight.
Then he said, in that soft, low tone, "Give me your hand."
I didn't answer, paralyzed by fear and confusion. He simply reached over and gently took my trembling right hand.
"Grip my hand instead," he commanded. "It will calm your nerves, because my hands are warm and sexy."
I slowly opened my eyes, trying to confirm if it was really him speaking, or if some polite, concerned robot had taken Leon Verdanis's place.
He met my gaze briefly, then gently placed one of his AirPods in my ear. He put the matching one in his own ear.
"It's music," he murmured, adjusting the volume. "Just enjoy it. It's not that hard."
And then he held my hand firmly in his.
Did Leon just hold my hand? My mind screamed. Did he just permit me to... touch him?
No… no, no, no. This can't be real.
I slowly turned my head, trying to get a better look at him. His profile was sharp, his expression surprisingly serene as the plane roared down the runway.
Was this really Leon Verdanis? Or did someone swap him out for a kind stranger at the airport?
This... this moment of genuine care, the music, the warm hand in mine, it was too good to be true. I couldn't believe it.
I needed absolute confirmation. I gently nudged his arm. "Mr. President?"
He didn't hear me over the escalating roar of the engines.
I tried again, louder this time. "Mr. President?"
He pulled the AirPod slightly out of his ear and looked at me, an impatient arch in his brow. "What?"
I swallowed, the doubt still gripping me. "Is this really you?"
He seemed utterly bored by the question. "No," he said slowly, eyes scanning the cabin before landing back on me. "It's not me. It's my highly evolved, far calmer ancestor."
A small, internal sigh of relief escaped me.
Ah. That tone. That supreme, sarcastic arrogance.
I closed my eyes again, my fear of flying replaced by the undeniable truth, this was Leon.
There was no doubt, only Leon would answer like that.
With the confirmation…
Author note:
Hi lovelies. Just a quick note, I might not be updating this story every day for now. I'm focusing on finishing my other book and I want to give the ending all my attention. Once that book is complete, I'll be back here to continue this story. Thank you for your patience, support, and I hope you'll keep checking in for updates. Love you all.