Chapter 28: The Beginning of a Lifetime Dream – Part 2
Chapter 28 The Beginning of a Lifetime Dream – Part 2
CASSIAN
The shock on her face was visible, a ripple that disrupted the serene composure she’d maintained since leaving the hospital. Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as the word ‘jet’ hung in the air between us.
"We're going by air?" she repeated, her voice a mixture of disbelief and dawning excitement. "In your jet? A private one you actually own? Cassian, where on earth are we going?"
I couldn't suppress a low chuckle. The sheer cascade of her questions, so unguarded and genuine, was a refreshing change from the calculated conversations that filled my days. "You're going to have to be more specific. Which question would you like me to answer first?"
"Where," she insisted, her gaze sharpening with intent. "Just tell me where."
"And ruin the surprise?" I tilted my head, a faint smile playing on my lips. "Where's your sense of adventure, Lysandra? You, of all people, should appreciate the thrill of the unknown."
She let out a small, frustrated huff, but a reluctant smile touched her own lips. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Let's just go."
I led her out of the dining room, where Felix stood sentinel. His eyes met mine, a silent question.
"Felix, we're heading to Landmark," I informed him.
"Understood, sir. I'll have the motorcade ready at the VIP entrance." He gave a curt nod and moved with efficient silence down the hall.
Lysandra stared after him, then back at me, her astonishment returning tenfold. "Landmark? As in Landmark Global Airways? But… I thought VGM had its own charter service for artists. You own Landmark?" She shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. "It's a top-tier international airline. How is that even possible? Why would any government allow a single person to amass that much influence?"
Her blunt assessment was both amusing and perceptive. I guided her towards the private elevator, initiating the biometric scan. "There is a VGM Air," I clarified as the golden doors slid open. "It's a functional fleet for corporate logistics and artist tours. Strictly business." We stepped inside, and I pressed the button for the subterranean garage.
As we began our descent, I continued. "Landmark is… different. It was a passion project. When I was a boy, I was obsessed with aviation. I didn't want to be a pilot; I wanted to command the sky itself. So, I built an airline. It's convenient—I maintain a private hangar for personal travel, separate from the commercial operations. Its public disassociation from me is a strategic choice."
I watched her process this, her mind visibly reeling. Her mouth was slightly agape. "So, you created one of the world's leading airlines… because of a childhood dream?" she whispered, as if the concept was too vast to speak at normal volume.
"You can simplify it that way, yes," I replied, the understatement feeling heavy in the quiet elevator.
"And the government?" she pressed, her curiosity overriding her awe.
"The government," I said, my tone turning flatter, "prefers its titans to be corporations, not individuals. They know I'm the architect behind several such entities. But I've embedded myself and my companies so deeply into the nation's economic infrastructure that to move against me openly would be to risk catastrophic instability." The doors opened to the garage, revealing the waiting convoy. "And as for my father… let's just say his legacy opens certain doors and silences certain objections. It's why men like Sebastian would gamble a fortune for a mere two-percent foothold in VGM. It's not just about the money. It's about getting a hand on the lever of that influence."
We slid into the back of the Maybach. I tapped a control, and the soundproof partition rose, sealing us in a bubble of privacy. Lysandra fell silent, her earlier excitement morphing into a pensive melancholy as she stared out the tinted window at the passing city.
"Do you think it's too late for me?" she asked, her voice so quiet I had to lean in to hear her. She wasn't looking at me. "When I was a girl, I didn't dream of being rich. I dreamed of being free. Of being happy." A bitter smile touched her lips. "The 'happy' part became… complicated. Then, after my family fell apart, the only thing that mattered was Elara. The only time I ever felt free was behind the wheel, dancing on the edge of oblivion on those canyon roads. But I had to give that up. The hospital bills were a tidal wave, and I was the only sandbag standing in their way. I sold my car, I took a safe, boring job, and I signed over my life, piece by piece, just to keep her alive. I thought my own dreams had suffocated and died a long time ago."
Her confession hung in the air, raw and unvarnished. This was the heart of her, the person beneath the "asset," the fighter buried under the weight of circumstance.
"Freedom," I said, choosing my words with a care that felt unfamiliar, "is the ultimate luxury. It is the one commodity poverty cannot afford. The world imposes rules on those without power. The first step to rewriting those rules is to take power for yourself." I watched her, seeing the ember of ambition I'd spotted earlier. "You have a fire in you, Lysandra. I saw it the first time you challenged me in the penthouse. I see it now when you talk about building something. An idea is worthless if it remains a thought. It requires action. And it is never too late to begin. Some of the most formidable empires were built by those who started with nothing but a relentless will."
She finally turned to look at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears she quickly blinked away. A genuine, watery laugh escaped her. "Listen to me, getting a lecture on wealth and ambition from Cassian Vale. I should be taking notes. Or maybe recording this for blackmail."
The tension broke. We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the city gradually giving way to the private access road leading to the Landmark terminal. I attended to a few urgent messages on my secure tablet, but my attention was divided, constantly drawn to her profile as she watched the world pass by, lost in a future she was only just beginning to dare envision.
The smooth deceleration of the car and the distant, powerful whine of jet engines signaled our arrival. We were ushered not through the main terminal, but directly into a private hangar, a vast, climate-controlled cathedral of aviation. And there, at its center, was my Boeing Business Jet, its sleek, white fuselage gleaming under the hangar lights. The pilot, co-pilot, and a small, professional crew stood at attention nearby.
The Landmark station manager hurried forward, but I waved him off with a brief handshake. "Another time. We're on a schedule."
I guided Lysandra up the airstairs and into the jet's interior. Her breath caught. It was appointed not with garish gold, but with polished wood, supple leather, and silent, cutting-edge technology. A lounge area, a formal dining table, a private bedroom—it was a penthouse in the sky.
"Feel free to look around," I told her, nodding to one of the flight attendants, who stepped forward with a welcoming smile.
For the next twenty minutes, she explored with the reverent curiosity of an archaeologist in a new world, running her fingers over surfaces, asking quiet questions about the technology. Once we were airborne, climbing through the clouds, she settled into a plush seat by the window, refusing champagne for a simple glass of water.
"I just want to watch," she said, her face bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
I let her have the silence, the moment. After about an hour, the captain's voice came over the intercom, announcing our descent. As the plane banked, a private coastal runway came into view, lined with palm trees and leading to a compound that was little more than a silhouette against the twilight ocean.
The jet touched down with a whisper of tires on tarmac. As the engines spooled down, I unbuckled my belt and stood, offering her my hand.
"Welcome," I said, my voice quiet in the sudden stillness. "We're here."