Elena's POV
The moment we stepped into the helicopter, my heart began to race.
I sat beside him, clutching my bag tightly on my lap, trying to act like I had done this before when clearly, I hadn't. The door shut, and within seconds, the noise grew louder. Suddenly, the ground began to pull away beneath us.
My breath caught in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut immediately, pressing my back hard against the seat while my fingers tightened around the edge. Every part of me felt tense.
God.
Why did I agree to this?
After a while, the movement steadied. The shaking subsided, and the noise returned to a more normal level. Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes and let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
"Are you calm now?" his voice came from beside me.
I nodded quickly.
"Good," he said. Then, as if he was up to something, he added, "Look down. The view is beautiful."
I frowned slightly but still turned my head. The moment my eyes dropped, my heart nearly stopped. We were so high—too high.
I snapped my eyes shut again immediately. I heard him let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like a hidden laugh. I refused to react.
But then something felt wrong.
I wasn't breathing properly.
My chest rose too quickly and too shallowly, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't calm it down.
"Breathe," he said, his tone shifting slightly.
I shook my head, my eyes still shut tight. "I… I can't…"
"What's wrong?"
"I'm scared of heights," I managed to say.
There was a short pause.
He moved closer. "Look at me."
I didn't respond.
"Elena," his voice softened just a little. "Open your eyes. Just look at me."
Slowly, I obeyed.
The moment my eyes opened, they landed on his.
"Good," he said quietly. "Now breathe. Slowly."
I nodded faintly.
"In… and out," he guided.
I followed.
"In… and out."
We stayed like that for a while, my eyes fixed on his, my breathing gradually falling into rhythm with his voice.
And somehow… it worked.
My chest eased, and my shoulders relaxed. I could breathe again. I didn't even realize when everything else faded, leaving just the two of us lost in an intense gaze.
Then suddenly, awareness hit me. I looked away quickly. He did the same.
"Scaredy cat," he muttered under his breath.
"I'm not," I replied immediately.
He nodded, clearly not convinced.
A few minutes later, the helicopter began to descend.
The moment my feet touched the ground, I bent slightly, taking deep breaths as if I had just escaped something serious.
"Relax," he said casually, already stepping away.
Easy for him to say.
We were led through a large compound, the kind that screamed money without trying too hard. The place was quiet, neat, and expensive in a way that made you careful where you put your feet.
A worker guided us to the garden at the back. An elderly man was seated there already. From the way the place looked and how composed he was, I guessed that this must be Mr. Harrington.
The moment he saw Adrian, his face lit up. "Adrian! You're here."
Adrian walked up to him with ease. "Good afternoon, sir."
I stood there, watching them, my brows furrowing slightly.
They… knew each other?
"Come, sit," Mr. Harrington said, gesturing to the chairs.
We sat.
He shook his head with a chuckle. "You fool. You won't come to see me unless it's business. Do you want the next time we meet to be at my funeral?"
Adrian smiled faintly. "You're not dying anytime soon. Not even in fifty years."
The man laughed. As he did, workers began setting the table. Wine, desserts, and small snacks were arranged neatly. My eyes followed the desserts without permission.
They looked too good.
Mr. Harrington noticed and laughed again. "Right. I can't die until you marry."
Adrian's expression shifted slightly—just for a second.
Mr. Harrington sighed and patted his shoulder. "It's time to move on, son."
Move on? Ithought, my brows pulling together slightly. Move on from what?
"And who is this?" the man asked, turning his attention to me.
"Her name is Elena, my secretary," Adrian replied.
"Ah. What happened to James?"
"He's on sick leave."
Before anything else could be said, a voice cut in.
"Adrian!"
We all turned.
A young, handsome guy walked toward us, smiling, with a file in his hand.
"Alex," Adrian said.
They greeted each other, and Alex turned to me almost immediately.
"Hi, beauty. Alex," he said, extending his hand.
I blinked and then took it. "Elena. His secretary."
He didn't let go. Instead, his thumb brushed lightly over my hand. "You're too beautiful to just be a secretary."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Thankfully, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat. "Business first."
Alex let out a small chuckle and nodded. "Alright, Dad."
Adrian shot Alex a look, and Alex just grinned. The meeting didn't take too long. Once it was done, I packed the files back into my bag while Adrian stood. We were about to leave when Alex called out.
"You're leaving already?"
"Yes," Mr. Kingston replied.
"Come on, Adrian," Alex said, moving closer. "Stay a bit. There's a party tonight."
Adrian's expression didn't change.
"I waited for you the other night. You didn't show up."
Alex sighed. "Are you still mad about that? I told you something came up. Don't be like this."
He turned to me. "Have you ever been to one of our parties before?"
I shook my head. "No."
His eyes widened. "No way! Then you have to come."
He turned back to Adrian. "She has to come."
I didn't even realize that I started looking at Adrian the same way.
He sighed. "Fine."
"Yes!" Alex clapped lightly. "Stay here until evening. We will meet at the party. I have to go pick something up."
Before leaving, he took my hand again, lifted it slightly, and placed a light kiss on it.
"See you tonight, beauty."
I smiled without thinking. Even after he walked away, I was still smiling, my hands folded together on their own.
"Hmm."
I snapped out of it at the sound of Mr. Kingston clearing his throat.
"What are we to do now?" I asked quickly.
"We wait," he replied.
I looked down at myself, noticing my office wear. "I can't go to a party like this."
He glanced me over once and nodded. "Right. We'll get you something."
Before we could move, Mr. Harrington called out, "Lunch first."
By evening, we were at a boutique.
The moment we walked in, the atmosphere changed. Staff rushed forward, greeting Mr. Kingston with wide smiles and careful respect.
We were taken upstairs.
The manager approached. "Mr. Kingston, it's been a while."
He nodded once and gestured toward me. "Make her look good. We have a party tonight."
She smiled. "Leave it to me."
Before I could even react, I was being led away.
An hour later, I stepped out. He wasn't inside; he was out on the verandah. But the sound of my heels made him turn.
The moment he saw me, he froze.
I walked down slowly.
The gown fit perfectly, hugging my body in all the right places. My hair fell in soft curls around my shoulders, and the light makeup brought everything together in a way I almost didn't recognize.
I stopped in front of him. His eyes didn't move—not even once. My perfume lingered softly between us.
"Do I look weird?" I asked.
No response.
"Mr. Kingston?"
Still nothing.
Then finally, he spoke, his voice lower than usual.
"You don't look real."
I blinked.
He took a slow step closer, his eyes still fixed on me as if trying to understand what he was seeing.
"You look like a ghost."
"What?!