Chapter 42 Rich people with Helicopters
The next morning dawned bright and early, signaling the end of the extended stay on the island. A cool breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the sound of engines roaring to life as guests prepared to depart. As I stood on the steps of the grand estate, watching people filter out and load into luxury cars, helicopters, and limousines, I was hit with the overwhelming realization of just how much wealth and power surrounded me. Even now, the guests mingled as if the world was theirs to command, discussing matters I had little understanding of.
I looked up at the rooftop and spotted a helicopter lifting off, its blades whirling as it ascended into the clear blue sky. My eyes widened when I saw it, this place had a helipad, of course it did. But seeing it in action, watching people take off like it was just another ordinary part of life, hammered home the reality I was now living in.
Darius stood by my side, his tall, imposing figure radiating an air of control and calmness. Faruk and his mate, Amina, were nearby, exchanging goodbyes with a few lingering guests. As I glanced around, trying to make sense of the opulence and the strange world I had found myself in, Darius nudged me forward toward one of the sleek black G-wagons waiting to take us to the private airstrip.
“We should get going,” Darius said, his voice low as he motioned toward the car.
I felt a twinge of anxiety as I stepped forward, unsure about what lay ahead. I’d never been on a private jet before, hell, I’d never even been on a regular plane. Darius had mentioned the jet in passing last night, but the reality of it hadn’t sunk in until now. I was about to board a private plane with the man I hated the most.
Amina, slid into the back seat with a cool, graceful ease, her presence as commanding as ever. I followed reluctantly, feeling small next to her calm confidence. Faruk jumped in last, his demeanor far more casual as he buckled his seatbelt and started fiddling with his phone. Darius settled into the driver’s seat, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space in the front. Without a word, he started the engine, and the G-wagon hummed to life as we pulled away from the estate.
The drive to the private airstrip was quiet. The rolling hills and sprawling beaches passed by in a blur of greenery and crystal blue waters, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I kept stealing glances at the others at Amina, so still and composed, her hands resting in her lap; at Faruk, who seemed restless, his leg bouncing impatiently; and at Darius, his eyes focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel with intensity.
I had no idea what to say, so I stayed silent, wondering what was going to happen next, my mind drifting off to Fred from time to time.
As we approached the private hangar, I was jolted from my thoughts by the sight of more luxury cars parked along the runway. Guests were already gathered, chatting with each other, laughing, and exchanging farewells. The private jets stood at the center of it all, gleaming in the sunlight like a symbol of everything I wasn’t a part of.
Darius parked the car and stepped out, opening the door for me. His large hand extended, waiting for me to take it. I hesitated, looking up at him. His face was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that made my chest tighten with both fear and longing.
I took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine, and he pulled me out of the car, guiding me toward the jet. Faruk and Amina followed behind us, exchanging final pleasantries with the other guests before joining us on the plane.
It all felt surreal, like I was watching someone else’s life unfold in front of me. The plane was sleek and modern, the kind of luxury I had only ever seen in magazines. Plush leather seats, dark wood finishes, and windows that offered an uninterrupted view of the sky and ocean. As I sat down, buckling my seatbelt, my heart began to race.
Darius sat beside me, and sensing my nervousness, he reached over and took my hand in his, holding it firmly. His touch was gentle but steady, as if he could sense how overwhelmed I was. I wanted to pull my hand away, to keep my distance from him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not this time.
Instead, I let him hold my hand, gripping it like an anchor as the engines roared to life. The jet began to roll forward, picking up speed, and my heart hammered in my chest. I glanced out the window, watching the ground slip away as we lifted into the sky. It felt like my entire life had been uprooted in a matter of weeks, and now here I was, thousands of feet in the air with the most powerful men in the world of werewolves.
Darius’ hand never left mine until we were safely in the air. When he finally let go, it felt like a loss, a reminder of how little control I had over my own fate.
The four of us sat facing each other in the cabin, the tension thick in the air. Faruk was the first to break the silence, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His leg bounced restlessly, and after a few minutes, he stood up abruptly.
“I’m going to the cockpit,” he muttered, not waiting for anyone’s approval.
I watched him go, disappearing behind a door at the front of the plane. Now it was just the three of us,me, Darius, and Amina.
Darius excused himself a moment later, disappearing into the back of the plane, leaving me alone with Amina. I shifted in my seat, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. She had always been so quiet, so composed, but now that it was just the two of us, I could feel her studying me, trying to figure me out.
“You know, Darius cares for you,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, something that made me feel like she knew far more than she was letting on.
I glanced at her, startled by the sudden comment. “What?” I managed to say, my throat was dry.
She gave me a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He may not show it in the way you expect, but he does care for you. He might even be in love with you.”
I shook my head, scoffing at the idea. “It’s not love,” I muttered. “It’s the bond between us. It’s just… biology.”
Amina smile faded, and she leaned back in her seat, her gaze drifting toward the window. “Perhaps. But the bond doesn’t force you to care. It just… connects you. The rest is up to you.”
I didn’t know what to say. It felt like she was telling me something I wasn’t ready to hear, something I wasn’t ready to believe.
“And besides,” she added quietly, her tone softening, “I know about your father. I know it must be hard.”
My heart clenched at the mention of my father.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The memories of my father’s death, of everything that had been ripped away from me, came flooding back, drowning out any words I might have said.
When Darius returned, I pulled my hand away from his touch, retreating into myself as I turned to stare out the window. I couldn’t deal with this. Not now. Not with everything that had happened, not with the weight of my father’s death pressing down on me.
Darius glanced at me, his brow furrowing in confusion, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he settled back into his seat, the tension between us palpable.
The rest of the flight passed in silence, the air between us heavy and suffocating.