The black sedan pulled to a silent stop at the airport's private drop-off zone. The air was thick with the scent of jet fuel, low hum of distant engines. A team of Secret Service agents , their face grim, professional, fanned out to create a tight perimeter.
As the door opened, a flurry of camera flashes erupted from a small group of reporters corralled behind a velvet rope. The First Lady of US, a woman whose every move was a political statement, stepped out first. Her expression was a practiced mask of grace, authority.
Her daughter , Alexa followed, her face a cool, detached mask of her own. As they walked the short distance to the entrance, the President's hand rested briefly on Alexa's arm, a touch that was less maternal than it was a firm instruction.
" Remember why we're here, Ail. This cooperation is good for the country." Her voice was a low, firm whisper.
Alexa took a deep breath , for the briefest moment , her detached gaze softened. She gave a slight , almost imperceptible nod of her head, a silent acknowledgement of the weight of her mom's words. Then, she stepped forward, pulled her mother into a quick, tight hug. The hug was not for the cameras , but for them. It was a silent promise.
When they parted, her facial expression returned to its cool demeanor, she walked toward the security door.
But then, as Alexa continued toward security, her mother's composure broke. He eyes found James, who had lingered behind them, his gaze fixed on Alexa. The political mask fell away, for a fleeting moment , she was just a worried mother.
" James" she said, her voice a near- silent plea. " She's all I have left."
Her eyes were filled with an emotion that the public would never see. " I have known since the moment , Alexa met you in university. You have been with her from the beginning, have been her support during the darkest times of her life. As a mother , as she's important the same way you are too, you are my son. I want to thank you for being beside her. I couldn't ask for anything more. Please, just make sure she is fine."
James's formal posture softened. He met her gaze with a unwavering, fierce loyalty. "Of course, aunt Elena", he said , the old,familiar title slipping out with a quiet certainty." You are a motherly figure to me. Without you, Ail , I'm nothing. I will make sure she does well."
The old car pulled upto the curb, it's worn leather seats , scuffed metal a stark contrast to the opulence of the royal airport terminal in Italy . The air was warm, smelled of aged stone, cypress trees.
Edmund's mother, Duchess Matilda Savoy,a woman of gentle strength, gave him a final hug.
" Stai attento, tesoro . Questa è una grande responsabilità. "
( Do be careful, my darling. This is a great responsibility. )
His 15 yr old sister, Princess Evelyn Savoy, a whirlwind of energy, offered a playful punch to his are. " Non dimenticarti di dirmi tutto. Ogni singolo dettaglio. E portami la bambola di Elsa di Ginevra."
( Don't forget to tell me everything. Every single detail, bring the Frozen Elsa doll from Geneva.)
" Lo farò", Edmund promised with a warm smile, feeling the familiar weight of their affection.
His father, the Duke Alberto Savoy, clasped a hand on Edmund's shoulder. His gaze was stern but held a deep, quiet pride. " L' onore della famiglia è ora nelle tue mani, figlio mio. Fa' bene."
( The family's honor is in your hands now, son. Do well.)
Edmund met his father's eyes , nodded, the weight of the words a familiar pressure. He was not just a person; he was the heir to the legacy, a living embodiment of his family's honor .
He gave his family one last glance, a silent promise hanging in the air between them, before he turned , walked toward the private jet with his secretary, ready to carry the weight of his family's expectations.
The sky over Geneva was a soft, fading orange as the evening traffic picked up. In a black sedan, Alexa leaned back in her seat, was in a business call, her attention entirely on the conversation. The driver navigated the highway with a practiced ease, following the GPS towards the hotel. Just ahead, the driver of a silver hatchback swerved sharply, the vehicle's motion momentarily jostling her.
At the exact sake moment, Edmund in the back of the hatchback, scrolling through his phone. He felt the sudden , brief shudder of the car as it narrowly avoided a collision. He paused for a second, glancing out the window at a blur of traffic, never noticing the black sedan that had just passed them. Neither of them saw the other, their paths crossing for a single, unseen second before they were just two more passengers in anonymous cars in the city.
The black sedan pulled to a stop beneath the grand, columnar entrance of the Mandarin Oriental. As the car door opened, a valet's quiet voice announced, " Welcome to Geneva, Ms. Donovan. " Alexa stepped into the lobby , her hand instinctively going to her side , where James was already scanning the room with a practiced gaze. The space was a symphony of dark wood, plush velvet, with well- dressed guests moving like ghosts through the hushed elegance. " I feel like a lamb being led to a slaughter " , she murmured, a rare flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. " A very well- dressed lamb", he replied, a small, knowing smile on his face as he took the key from the concierge.
Across town , a limousine glided to a halt in front of the Four Seasons hotel des Bergues Geneva. The doors swung open, revealing a world- class polished marble, sparkling chandeliers. Edmund stepped out with his secretary, a single security detail derailing him. The hotel was an echo of his own world: formal, quiet, burdened by an old world- class elegance. As he crossed the lobby with Lionel beside him, a bellboy tried to make contact with him, but hr kept his gaze straight ahead, the weight of his father's words heavy in his mind. He was here for a mission, a duty. The thought of finding a peace in this city was a distant dream. As he passed a pair of sleek, mirrored elevator doors , fragrance of lilies wanted from within as they closed. He didn't notice. He was already thinking about the auction.