~Becklan's POV~
I closed my eyes again, my fear of flying replaced by the undeniable truth, this was Leon.
There was no doubt, only Leon would answer like that.
With the confirmation, the intense, jarring uncertainty vanished.
This man was utterly unbearable, arrogant, and savage, but at least he was predictable.
Knowing the truth, I relaxed my rigid posture. I tightened my grip on his hand, grounding myself in the reality of his warmth.
I took a deep, shaky breath, letting the music fill my ears.
I kept my eyes closed, surrendering to the sensation, trusting the familiar presence beside me.
A flight attendant soon came by and served us some snacks and food. After I managed to eat a little, the fatigue from the early morning and the adrenaline of the flight began to catch up. I drifted off to sleep.
Because of him it wasn't as scary as I had thought it would be.
By the time I opened my eyes, the captain's voice had already echoed through the cabin. The plane was just minutes from landing. We had finally arrived.
As soon as we began taxiing, Leon leaned across the aisle, his expression theatrically indignant. "Unbelievable! You actually slept through the entire continent. You were completely useless as my maid on this flight! I didn't even get a single conversation out of you, Becklan. Did you just wake up from a coma, darling?"
I frowned, confusion bubbling inside me. What conversation could I possibly have had with him?
Leon caught the look on my face and smirked. "Better not say out loud what's running through that mind of yours," he teased, his voice sharp. "I'd bet it's just as ugly as your expression."
After stepping out of the plane, a glossy, black car was already waiting to pick us up at the airport curb.
Once we were settled inside, I turned to Leon. "Sir, I apologize, but I was wondering about your—"
"My assistants?" Leon finished for me, his expression flat. "You're only just realizing that now?"
"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I was just wondering… I didn't see any of your crew on the flight."
He cut me off. "All my crew flew out yesterday. They're already setting up the fittings. I'll be meeting them there."
"Okay, sir," I replied, letting the matter drop.
The drive was short and luxurious. We arrived not at a standard hotel, but at a sprawling, architecturally stunning residence.
"As soon as Leon stepped out, his primary assistant, who must have been waiting, rushed to meet us. They immediately launched into a rapid-fire discussion, trading updates on fittings, model lineups, runway schedules, and exhibition arrangements, pure business talk."
But Leon quickly turned to one of his staff. "You, take Becklan to my room. He needs to arrange my things immediately; I need to take a shower."
"I followed the assistant and efficiently arranged Leon's extensive wardrobe and accessories. When I stepped out, the building was alive with activity, models in sleek outfits, assistants carrying garment bags, stylists with sketchbooks, and designers clutching portfolios, each focused on their tasks."
I hesitated, curiosity piqued by the bustling crowd, and then my eyes landed on Frank.
"Frank is also here?" I thought, instantly surmising the reason for the crowd. Perhaps they came for the seasonal fashion week events.
I wanted to walk closer to greet Frank, but before I could take a step, I heard Leon's sharp voice call my name from the main foyer.
I went straight to attend to him. "Sir?"
"Did you arrange my room?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"Okay." He turned back to his assistant.
I hesitated before asking, "And what about me, sir? You haven't said where I should put my things, or who I'll be sharing a room with."
Just then, before Leon could answer, Frank, who had been nearby, walked toward us, a warm, genuine smile lighting up his face.
"Becklan! If there's no room for you, you can definitely share the room with me," Frank offered generously.
I quickly turned to Frank, feeling a rush of gratitude that someone was showing me simple kindness in this chaos. "Thank you, Mr. Frank. That's so generous of you."
But Leon cut in immediately, his tone sharp and possessive. "I'm his boss, Frank. Remember, Beck, he's my employee. It's my responsibility to decide where he sleeps. That's none of your concern."
Frank laughed, an easy, unbothered sound that seemed to bounce off the tense silence Leon had created. He threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Chill, friends. It's not that deep, Leon. Just trying to be helpful." He gave me a brief, genuine smile. "You know how it is. We look out for each other."
Leon ignored Frank's comment entirely, his expression hardening as he turned his full attention on me. The brief moment of levity was over.
"You will be in the room next to mine," Leon commanded. "Suite three. It's set up as an auxiliary office and storage, but it has a pull-out bed. It is suitable for staff. Go arrange your things. Now."
I nodded quickly, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment at the possessive display and the obvious downgrade to a storage room. The tension was palpable, and I desperately wanted to disappear. I gave Frank a quick, apologetic glance for the awkwardness and hurried away before Leon could find another reason to assert his ownership.
The primary, intense work they had all gathered for clearly wouldn't begin until tomorrow.
As evening descended, the sprawling residence quieted, and the various models, designers, and assistants gathered in a large dining area for a communal meal. Leon sat at the head of a large table, looking every bit the imperious master of ceremonies.
Just as the food was being served, Leon glanced toward me. "Becklan," he called out sharply. "Come here. I need you to fetch that blue portfolio I left on the console in my room."
I went immediately. By the time I returned and delivered the item, everyone was already eating. I found a small, empty table in the corner and began to eat alone, exhausted but glad for the quiet moment.
I hadn't been eating for long when Frank approached my table. "Mind if I join you, Becklan?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.
"It's fine, Mr. Frank," I replied, gesturing toward the empty chair.
We fell into conversation instantly. Frank was easygoing, telling funny anecdotes about the industry, and soon, I was laughing, a genuine, carefree laugh that felt wonderfully unfamiliar. I enjoyed the company, the shared moments of amusement, and the simple kindness of a normal conversation.
I was mid-laugh when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Leon.
Leon: It's getting late. Go to sleep. And stop laughing so loud. It's distracting.
My blood ran cold. The lightness vanished instantly. I shot up from the chair.
"I—I'm so sorry, Mr. Frank," I stammered, grabbing my things. "I have to go. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Becklan," Frank replied, looking slightly puzzled by my sudden haste.
I practically ran back toward the main living area where Leon had been sitting. He was already gone. I sped down the hallway to his room.
I gave his door a hesitant knock. "Sir?"
The door opened almost instantly. Leon stood there, one eyebrow arched, looking impeccably annoyed.
"I want to ask if you needed anything," I rushed out, trying to explain my sudden presence.
Leon's lips curved into a cold smirk. "I'm perfectly fine. You may leave."
I retreated, walking down the hall toward the small storage room I was assigned. When I opened the door, my stomach clenched with fear. Two men I didn't recognize, huge, with unfriendly, wary expressions, were already inside, setting up what looked like their sleeping bags. They looked like security, and they did not look welcoming.
I backed out instantly, my heart hammering against my ribs. I couldn't sleep there. I couldn't.
Without a second thought, I spun around and ran back to Leon's door, knocking urgently, my knuckles rapping against the wood.
"Mr. President!" I called out, using the formal title reserved for public moments.
Leon opened the door, irritation etched deep in his face. "What now, Beck? You're interrupting me."
I stepped into his sightline, clasping my hands together, my fear making my voice tremble.
"Please, Sir," I pleaded, trying to keep my voice tiny and adorable, hoping to appeal to any shred of decency. "Please, may I share your room tonight? I'm scared to sleep in Suite three. There are two strangers in there, and I don't...