Chapter 68

Cesar

For a moment, I thought Belle wouldn’t come back after what happened last night. I’d behaved like a complete jerk. A part of me—the fair part—knew I owed her an apology, but that woman brought out something in me that I despised. My pride as an heir was crushed every time I let her shake my emotions so quickly. So, when I saw her running toward the car, ready to work as if nothing had happened, I felt relieved… and then I realized that this woman meant more to me than I wanted to admit, and that irritated me. Vulnerability had no place in my life—not for someone like me.

“S-Sir, Cesar, don’t you think it would be better if you traveled with Joffre?”

“No,” I replied firmly, watching her struggle to keep up with me through the airport.

“But there’s still time to change plans. I... I don’t think I’ll be of any help.”

“This is your first test to show me you can handle this job.”

“But I can’t even get on a plane!” I stopped walking and turned to look at her seriously. Surprised, she muttered, “Sorry... I didn’t mean to yell, but... but I’m just so nervous.” I moved closer, took her hand, and said, “Nothing will happen to you by my side, so hold my hand, and before you know it, the plane will have taken off.” She looked at me fearfully and nodded hesitantly. I resumed walking, feeling a sense of calm at last. Those concerns faded, and I realized this woman was more important than I could deny.

۩

Belle

“Have a safe trip, Sir Cesar,” Joffre said, bowing slightly.

“Take care of the mansion, Joffre. If anything happens, call me. Otherwise, don’t contact me; I’ll probably be busy in a meeting.”

“As you wish, sir,” Joffre said, giving me a discreet, uneasy look. “Sir Cesar, are you sure this woman should accompany you on such an important trip?” he said, looking at our joined hands.

“Joffre, give me advice when I ask for it. Right now, I haven’t asked for your opinion.”

“Understood. Have a safe trip, sir.” Mr. Cesar tugged my arm as we boarded the plane. I took a deep breath as we awkwardly made our way to the first-class cabin. When we reached our seats, I tensed up, sitting stiffly as I felt the tremors run through my skin. Then, suddenly, I heard him close to my ear.

“I need my hand for a moment,” he said, and I startled, realizing I was gripping his hand tightly.

“W-what do you need it for? Can’t you see we’re about to take off? What if it flies away?” He looked at me with amusement.

“First of all, it’s my hand; I can’t leave without it,” he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“You think this is funny?! I’m terrified, and you plan on leaving?”

“Yes, it is... I need to speak with a flight attendant. Stop acting like a child; I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, easy for you to say! If I die because of you, you’ll owe me for life—do you hear me?” He chuckled and, looking at me, said quietly, “It’ll be fun to see that...”

I found myself staring at his smile, hypnotized, and then, as if I’d woken from a dream, I let go of his hand, embarrassed by my behavior. For a moment, I’d forgotten who I was talking to. When did I start feeling so comfortable around him?

“I’m sorry...”

“And miss out on the privilege of being the first to see this shy side of yours? Just breathe and relax, Miss Belle.” I turned my eyes away, clenching my hands. He just loves pushing people’s buttons.

“Don’t tell a stressed woman to calm down, Mr. Cesar. You’re only making me more upset. Better go quickly before I don’t give you your hand back.”

“Don’t ask for things you might regret later,” he said as he walked away.

“I should have refused... how am I going to survive this...?”

“Are you alright, miss?” I looked up at the flight attendant holding a tray of drinks.

“I-I’m trying. Do you know when we’ll take off?”

“In a few minutes, but... are you sure you’re okay? You look very pale and sweaty. Would you like a drink?” I saw the champagne glasses on the tray and hurriedly grabbed two.

“Umm… miss, I don’t think it’s wise to drink so much if you’re so nervous.”

“I’ll be fine. Could you bring me two more glasses, please?” I said, drinking as if it were water, nervously wiping my mouth and leaning back, trying to calm my breathing.

“Well... alright, I’ll bring your drinks shortly.” Suddenly, I felt someone sit next to me.

“Drinking to forget?” he asked, extending his hand.

“If I don’t get drunk, I might jump out of the window to get down,” I said irritably, ignoring his hand.

“I already told you, there’s nothing to worry about. In the 20th century, the probability of an airplane accident is 1%; there are far more alcohol-related accidents than planes crashing. Do you still want my hand?”

“I don’t want your hand. You probably have a lot to plan for when we arrive, so don’t worry—I’ll just pass out from the alcohol.” I closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply.

“Are you sure you don’t want my hand? It could help you relax.” I opened my eyes suddenly, and, seeing that dangerous smile of his, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“Just say yes, and I’ll show you.” The flight attendant placed my drinks on the tray, and Mr. Cesar took an orange juice. When the woman walked away, I heard over the intercom:

“Dear passengers, we’ll be taking off shortly. We estimate arrival in Puerto Rico at 10:00 pm. Thank you for choosing our airline, and we hope you enjoy the flight.”

I felt the plane start to move, and, scared, I grabbed Mr. Cesar’s hand tightly, feeling a strange turbulence. I sensed his chest vibrate as he held back laughter, and just as I was about to pull away, he took my hand, holding it firmly, then cupped my cheeks and kissed me. But it wasn’t just any kiss—it overflowed with intense passion that consumed me, the taste of citrus mingling with alcohol as our tongues danced, everything else fading away. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t pull away; it felt so good, and it was... different. Something had changed, and I think it was me.