Charles Kosonen very nearly wanted to slap himself across the face.
The urge was unfamiliar.
Violent.
Deeply irritating.
And entirely deserved.
For five straight months, he had been searching for one woman.
One voice.
One pair of sapphire-blue eyes that had somehow lodged themselves beneath his skin after a single night inside a shabby little bar hidden in the corners of City Z.
The memory still remained painfully vivid.
Her voice flowing through cigarette smoke and neon lights.
The way every person in the room had gone silent listening to her sing.
The way he had gone silent.
Charles had walked out of V The Bar that night already knowing he wanted her.
Not in the careless, fleeting way he usually wanted things.
This was different.
Sharp.
Persistent.
Annoyingly consuming.
So naturally, he had done what Charles Kosonen always did when he desired something.
He reached for it.
The next morning, he contacted the CEO of Starlight Airlines personally after learning Kaija had joined the company.
And for the first time in his entire life—
He had been refused.
"We are responsible for protecting the personal information of our employees, along with their flight schedules, for aviation safety reasons, Mr. Kosonen."
Charles still remembered the polite firmness in the CEO's voice.
No amount of money mattered.
No amount of influence mattered.
No carefully implied pressure mattered.
The answer remained no.
When the call ended, Charles sat in his office staring at the skyline beyond the glass windows with a feeling he had not experienced since childhood.
Frustration.
Real frustration.
'So there are still things I can't buy.'
The realization had unsettled him far more than he cared to admit.
And because Charles Kosonen was not a man accustomed to giving up, he adapted.
If he could not obtain her information—
Then he would simply encounter her again.
Five months.
Five entire months of flying commercial like some ordinary businessman.
Five months of cramped seating, recycled cabin air, crying infants, strangers invading his personal space, and mediocre coffee served with practiced smiles.
Five months of repeatedly boarding Starlight Airlines flights hoping to see one particular face.
And every single time he failed—
His irritation grew worse.
The complaints he submitted after flights became infamous within the airline.
Sometimes they were valid.
Usually they were not.
The attendants assigned to him changed constantly because Charles intentionally made sure no crew member remained assigned to his flights twice.
It was strategic.
Cold.
Calculated.
And finally—
It had worked.
Yet now that the woman herself was kneeling beside him in her elegant blue uniform, now that those impossible sapphire eyes were looking directly into his own—
His brain had apparently abandoned him completely.
Do you have a boyfriend?
Out of every possible thing he could have said, that was what came out?
Not hello.
Not I've been searching for you.
Not I heard you sing months ago and haven't forgotten your voice since.
No.
A question that sounded absurdly personal and mildly deranged.
Charles kept his face perfectly blank despite the internal irritation clawing through him.
Worse still—
He had only just realized it was Kaija who had lifted his luggage into the overhead compartment moments earlier.
Him.
Charles Kosonen.
Leaving bags in the aisle like some inconsiderate idiot because he'd been distracted after an infuriating business meeting earlier that morning.
And she had handled it herself.
Fantastic.
Now the woman he'd spent five months searching for probably thought he was an arrogant asshole.
Which—
Was fair.
Kaija blinked slowly up at him from her kneeling position, clearly trying to process whether she had heard him correctly.
Yet somehow her professional smile never faltered.
"Could you please say that again?" she asked politely.
There was no escape now.
Charles forced himself to remain composed.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he repeated calmly.
This time he caught it immediately.
The subtle stiffness entering her smile.
The tiny shift in her eyes.
Professional warmth cooling into guarded caution.
"Yes, Mr. Kosonen," Kaija replied evenly. "I have a boyfriend."
Something unpleasant twisted sharply inside Charles's chest.
It felt strangely sour.
Possessive.
Disappointing.
He disliked it instantly.
Still, outwardly, not a single emotion crossed his face.
Silence stretched awkwardly between them.
Kaija's smile dimmed slightly beneath the weight of it.
"May I serve you a welcome drink?" she asked smoothly, slipping back into her duties. "Today we have watermelon juice, lemon ju—"
"No need."
Charles cut her off before she could finish.
Then, before he could overthink it further:
"May I have your number instead?"
This time her smile disappeared entirely.
Interesting.
Not offended.
Not flustered.
Just instantly alert.
"We're not allowed to share personal contact information with passengers," Kaija replied carefully.
Charles gave a slight nod.
"I'm aware."
Her brows lifted faintly.
"I already asked your employer months ago," he admitted. "I received the same answer."
For the first time since approaching him, genuine surprise flickered across her face.
Kaija glanced briefly toward the galley.
The purser was watching them.
Closely.
When Kaija looked back at him again, her voice had lowered.
"You've been looking for me?"
Charles noticed the caution hidden beneath her calm tone immediately.
And honestly?
He understood it.
A billionaire businessman admitting he had spent five months searching for a flight attendant sounded dangerously close to the opening premise of a crime documentary.
Without another word, Charles reached into the inner pocket of his vest and withdrew a folded note along with a pen.
Carefully, subtly, he lowered both toward her out of the purser's line of sight.
"I don't think this is the proper setting for the conversation I'd like to have with you," he said quietly.
His silver eyes held hers steadily.
"But I would like to make you an offer."
Kaija remained silent.
Charles could practically see the thoughts moving behind her eyes.
Evaluating him.
Measuring danger.
Trying to determine whether this was harmless interest or something worse.
"If you're interested," he continued calmly, "write your number down. I'll contact you later so we can speak properly."
For several long seconds, she said nothing.
Charles found himself unexpectedly tense waiting for her answer.
Then something shifted in her gaze.
The suspicion softened slightly.
Earlier, when he boarded the aircraft, his expression had apparently screamed exactly what everyone always assumed about him:
Cold.
Untouchable.
Dangerous.
But now, staring at her from this close—
Charles realized he no longer looked at her with indifference.
And she noticed.
Kaija's eyes lingered on his face quietly, almost searchingly.
'He doesn't look like he's lying,' she thought cautiously.
More strangely—
She didn't sense lust from him.
Not the cheap kind she was unfortunately familiar with from male passengers.
No lingering stares at her chest.
No sleazy smile.
No deliberate flirtation.
Just an unsettling intensity.
And sincerity.
"Just don't tell anyone I gave it to you," she murmured at last.
Relief flickered through Charles so unexpectedly that it almost annoyed him.
Kaija took the note and pen from his hand.
Her fingers brushed lightly against his palm.
A tiny touch.
Barely anything.
Yet Charles felt it immediately.
His eyes lowered as she wrote quickly onto the folded paper in neat handwriting.
Then she returned both items to him.
The corner of his mouth curved faintly for the first time that day.
"When does your duty end today?" he asked as he tucked the note safely back into his jacket.
"This is my final flight," Kaija replied professionally. "But I won't be available until after six PM."
"Will you be staying overnight elsewhere?"
"No. I'll be returning to City Z."
Charles nodded once.
"Then I'll contact you after I return to my hotel."
"Take your time."
Kaija rose smoothly back to her feet.
Immediately, that polished flight attendant smile returned to her face like a perfectly fitted mask.
"If there's nothing else I can help you with, Mr. Kosonen, I'll return to my duties."
Charles watched her walk away down the aisle.
His gaze lingered longer than it should have.
'Kaija Sepala.'
After five months—
Finally.
The remainder of the flight passed in complete silence between them.
Charles worked intermittently on his laptop, though his concentration was nowhere near its usual level. Occasionally he caught glimpses of Kaija moving through the cabin serving passengers with graceful efficiency, her expression calm and unreadable despite the exhaustion faintly shadowing her features.
And annoyingly—
He found himself watching her far too often.
When the aircraft finally landed, Charles stood before she could approach his seat.
At the start of the flight, he had foolishly left his luggage blocking the aisle.
This time, he retrieved it himself without assistance.
A small correction.
Pointless perhaps.
But necessary.
By the time he stepped toward the aircraft exit, his face had returned entirely to its usual cold composure.
Only once, just before leaving, did his silver eyes glance toward Kaija again.
Lingering.
Then he disappeared down the jet bridge.
The moment he left, the purser leaned subtly toward Kaija while they continued smiling at departing passengers.
"What did the VVIP want?" she whispered sharply.
Kaija kept her expression pleasant.
"Nothing important."
The lie came smoothly.
"He asked about departure time, flight duration, and today's menu."
The purser narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Did he complain about anything?"
"No."
"Nothing at all?"
"He didn't even want the welcome drink," Kaija replied. "Or the meal service."
The purser visibly relaxed.
"Good," she muttered. "If Flight Service contacts you later about complaints, tell them exactly that."
Kaija nodded obediently.
"Yes, purser."
Outwardly calm.
Internally?
Charles Kosonen had already faded almost completely from her thoughts.
Because now that duty was over, another reality crashed back into the front of her mind with brutal force.
Niklas.
Marja.
Blue Dreams Café.
Six PM.
And suddenly, compared to the billionaire who had spent five months searching for her—
That looming confrontation felt infinitely more dangerous.