Chapter 22

Wade gives the instructions to me and Theresa. We're in the back seat of the SUV. Only the security team will accompany us on this trip, and since The Reckless's presence at Bandit's birthday party is no secret, he prepares us for what we'll encounter at the airports.

Since this is my first public appearance with them, I don't feel ready for such exposure. The pulse presses against my temples, and I try not to let the nervousness show as it's preventing my breathing from flowing regularly.

The guys are farther ahead in the van. The driver, who is also part of the security team, uses a special airport entrance for non-commercial flights, and still, when we pass the main entrance, I see photographers, as well as fans, crowding around the boarding gate.

I shrug. Even though I already know the commotion they cause with their presence, being here, in front of all this fuss, is entirely new.

I peek through the window, aware that I can see everything outside, but they can't see me inside — the only reason I'm allowing myself to look — and shivers spiral down my spine. The hollow rumbling of my heart beats so loud that my ears block.

The SUV slows down until it stops.

"Why are we stopping?" Tess asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Wade and the driver.

"What's going on?" Wade speaks into the microphone attached to his lapel, then presses the earpiece. "We told them straight to the jet!" he argues, grumbling fiercely as his nostrils flare. "Tell them we're late!" he insists. I notice a layer of sweat forming on his bald head, and he mutters a curse. "Why do they do this shit every damn time? Stay in the car, please," he directs his order to me and Tess.

Wade opens the door to step out, and I lean forward to peek with my eyes at the van parked just a few meters away. Then, the five members of The Reckless jump out of it.

Bryan adjusts the shirt he's wearing, pulling the white sleeves up to his elbows. Aidan straightens the collar of his denim shirt and smiles, waving to the circle recently formed at the entrance of the airport. Chase is wearing a basic white t-shirt and doesn't hold back on the smiles. Finnick doesn't seem as friendly as the others, nor is he happy about stopping to sign autographs, but he does it when a fan throws herself at him, giving him an awkward hug.

I press my lips together to hold back the laugh.

The last to leave the van is Ashton. He walks as if he knows he's the favorite. His ego inflates his chest, almost ripping his shirt with his muscles.

I already knew about the dragonfly tattoo on the back of his neck, but I hadn't seen it up close because every time we met, he was wearing a leather jacket. But fans always talk about the tattoo as if it's the sexiest thing about him. I have to admit, begrudgingly, that it really is. Even the silver hoop earring, which Tess said he refused to wear at first, makes him even more handsome.

I want to silence my thoughts for taking this direction, but him being a jerk doesn't erase how hot he is.

A condescending sigh escapes me.

A fan grabs Ashton's forearm, studying his black buckle watch on his wrist. He whispers something that makes her smile, and then I see him take off the watch and hand it to her.

The girl lets out a sharp scream and jumps on his neck, giving him the most suffocating hug I've ever seen. However, Ashton's expression changes. Before, he seemed happy talking to the fans, but the moment the girl squeezes him in her arms, it's as if he's won the world.

His smile is enough to make your eyes well up and your lips tremble. He really loves each fan, even though he doesn't know them or see them every day. I can see his eyes light up with a dazzling glow, capable of softening his previously irritated demeanor. It's a connection I've never witnessed before.

The tremor in my lips indicates a stubborn smile slowly forming. I think I understand why, even though he hated the idea of "selling himself" to restore his reputation, he agreed to have a fake relationship with me.

He doesn't want to disappoint the fans. He might lose everything, but not their love.

They stay there, talking, taking pictures, signing autographs for more than twenty minutes, and the paparazzi waste no time photographing them. As the bright flashes fire, Ashton's calm demeanor fades. He marches toward the paparazzi, circling the group. But Wade places a hand on his chest, stopping him from completing his objective.

Whispering something to Wade, he turns back to pay attention to the fans, and the head of security moves closer to the group of eager photographers, gesturing with his hands. My lip-reading is terrible, but by the way they pull back, I think he told them to step away a bit.

I open a crack in the window. My view clears up without the tinting of the window film. Although only my eyebrows and eyes are visible, it takes less than a minute for the group of paparazzi to spot me.

When one of the members lifts the camera and points it at me, the flash blinds my vision. I blink repeatedly, trying to ease the effect of the bright camera flash, but the whitish blur of people and things doesn't change at all. Then, I realize that the others have also spotted me and are doing the same as their colleague: photographing me.

I try to be quick and raise the car window, leaning my body back into the seat and pressing my eyelids shut until my eyes stop stinging.

"Are you okay?" Tess places her hand on my forearm.

"I think they photographed me."

"If they photographed you, they didn't get your whole face. It'll be useless, don't worry." She smiles, trying to ease the impact of the photos.

We wait a few more moments until Wade returns to the car. The Reckless says their goodbyes to the fans and heads back to the van.

The three cars stop near the private jet, and Tess exits first. I follow her, and the others get out of their cars, gathering near the stairs leading to the jet.

Wade helps us with the luggage, pulling the bags and dragging them to the uniformed man next to a flight attendant. He hands our belongings to the flight attendant, smiling and stepping back with them.

The head of security steps aside to talk to the pilot and co-pilot, and while everything is happening, Tess has already joined Chase in a circle talking with the guys.

I shrug, feeling that cold sensation in my stomach. There's nothing you can do when, suddenly, you no longer belong in someone's world. That's how I feel when I'm around The Reckless. Even though I love them with all my heart and I know that nothing has changed regarding my feelings, I still understand what Mackenzie means about not belonging to the world they're in.

Fans waiting for them, paparazzi, sold-out shows, private flights, and other things I never imagined I would witness are surrounding me like a wall.

I mean, they've always been destined for success, but I never thought I would end up in the middle of it, and in a very strange and twisted way, using this influence to my advantage.

The flight attendant returns to say that we're ready to take off. Since it's a jet that accommodates fourteen people, only two security team members will come with us, but Wade says he'll meet us at the hotel in Miami.

We board. I'm the last to enter, and even though I feel out of place, I intend to take advantage of the situation for my own benefit.

The seats face each other, with a tiny space between them, and a small table divides them. A sofa can accommodate four people sitting.

The interior is luxurious, resembling a first-class train car. The muted tones exude this opulence, with cream-colored seats, dark brown accents, and golden stitching. All the tables have brown glass tops with cracks perfectly fitting a glass or a soda can, with golden edges. Everything is so chic.

I inhale the air of the environment, the leather blending with the scent of cleanliness. Everyone settles into their seats as if they are used to it, and I'm the only one trying to adjust my reality to theirs.

Have they already forgotten that, not long ago, they never imagined traveling on a jet like this? Because for me, it’s all a big novelty.

"Miss, could you please take a seat?" the flight attendant—Ben Tucker, as I read on the brass plate on his uniform—says, startling me as I hesitate, unsure where to sit.

Ashton is alone in a seat at the back. With a sigh caught in my throat, I walk towards him. Avalon told me to be "patient," and even if I'm angry, I should try to stay connected with him.

When everything is out in the media, we can't afford to leave any cracks visible or neglect those who will be watching us for a good story. I have to keep reminding myself why I’m doing this.

All my efforts over the last few years depended on Magdalene. No matter how dedicated you are or how incredible your designs are, without a good bridge like influence, becoming a fashion designer is just a dream locked in a box, and what I want is to get out of it.

Ashton is my ticket. He’s the only person I know who can be that connection. I hate needing him as much as he hates needing me, but I haven’t suffered for nothing. I didn’t go through everything I’ve been through to let it end with an arrogant designer telling me I’m not talented. I’m here, despite everything, because I decided not to give up for anything or anyone.

The nausea rises the moment Ashton narrows his eyes at me. I let my bag fall on the small table separating the seats.

“Get lost,” he says simply, waving his hand to dismiss me.

I ignore him and throw myself into the seat across from him. His fierce, unforgiving gaze travels over to me.

“Which part of ‘get lost’ didn’t you understand?”

“We need to talk.”

“No, thanks.”

His attention returns to the window.

“How do you plan to do that by ignoring me? Do you know that I should be the one who’s angry? You made me get fired. You piss me off. You’re my biggest problem, Ashton.”

Slowly, as if each of my words is being absorbed by his mind, he turns back to face me. Tilting his body forward, he rests his elbows on his thighs and fixes his dark eyes on me.

“I’ll tell you how I plan to do it, Vity,” he whispers mockingly, and still with his eyes locked on mine, I feel the fire sparking within them, trapping, hypnotizing, and even hurting me. “I’ll come at you with everything I’ve got, full force, and I’ll destroy you.”

I shrink my shoulders, feeling the threat hit me to my bones.

However, my expression doesn’t change.

I’ve learned to live with masks, and I’m made of secrets. Ashton thinks he scares me, but I have the devil under my bed, lurking.

“I’m not doing to you what Nicola did. We both need help.”

I maintain my posture, acting as if his flaring nostrils full of anger don’t terrify me.

He laughs without trying to be restrained. His sharp canines are exposed, showing a version of him I hadn’t seen before.

“No, you’re doing worse. You’re showing me that I was wrong about who you are. You’re making me question why I ever thought I was falling in love with you.”