~Becklan's POV~
"Oh, really?" He let out a short, mocking hum. "You should have seen your face the first time you fled. You were practically tearing up. One bit of turbulence and you looked like you were ready to break."
I bit my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an angry retort. I knew the truth, I hadn't cried, but with Leon, it was useless to drag out an unnecessary argument. To him, I was never perfect. If I wasn't "ugly" or "bone-bodied," I was a "crybaby."
I just shook my head, turning my gaze back to the window.
You arrogant, self-centered prick, I snapped at him in the safety of my own mind. The only thing "tearing up" is your brain from a lack of common sense. I hope the next time you look in the mirror, your ego finally trips and falls on its face. You're lucky you're rich, because with a personality like a bag of rusty nails, no one would ever want to be near you for free.
The list of insults continued to scroll through my head like credits at the end of a movie. I imagined several ways I could just be his boss for one day and pay him back for everything he's been doing to me. I'd make him scrub floors until his "perfect" hands bled; I'd make him wear a maid's outfit and call me President. I spat at his image in my mind, savoring the thought of him finally having to bow down to me.
"You're very quiet," Leon noted, shifting his legs and inadvertently brushing his knee against mine.
I turned back to him, my face a perfect, expressionless mask of a dutiful servant. "Not at all, Mr. President. I was just thinking about how much I'm looking forward to the flight."
I'm looking forward to you being stuck in a metal tube for several hours where you can't annoy anyone but me, I added silently, my internal voice dripping with sarcasm.
Getting to the airport was a whirlwind of polished floors and hushed voices. Leon moved through the terminal like he owned the air everyone else was breathing. I followed a few steps behind, carrying his hand luggage, feeling the weight of the security guards flanking us. We bypassed the regular lines, heading straight for the aircraft.
Once we boarded, the luxury of the cabin almost made me forget my nerves. I sat across from him in the oversized leather seats, trying to look composed, but as the plane began to taxi toward the runway, my heart started to drum against my ribs.
When the engines let out that final, deafening roar and the plane began its steep ascent, my bravado shattered. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers clutching the seat handles so tightly it felt like my hands might crumple. The sensation of being lifted into the void made my stomach drop.
Suddenly, I felt a warm, firm pressure over my knuckles.
Leon had reached across the aisle, his hand covering mine and prying my fingers off the armrest so he could lace our fingers together. His grip was steadying and unexpectedly gentle.
"Just hold me," he said, his voice unusually soft against the hum of the cabin. "You don't have to be afraid."
I cracked one eye open, staring at him in complete bewilderment. Leon, what exactly do you want from me? One moment, he's a total jerk, hurling insults and looking down on me, and the next… he's like this. My mind spun from the whiplash of his moods. Was he being genuine, or was this just another way to assert control?
"You'll have to get used to it, Beck," he said, his gaze fixed out the window as if he wasn't currently holding my life in his palm. "Because we're going to be traveling together a lot."
I stared at him, my pulse racing for a whole new reason. I didn't say anything at first; I just let the heat of his hand ground me while the world fell away below us.
"Do you hear me?" he prompted, his thumb tracing a slow, distracting line over the back of my hand.
"Yes, sir," I murmured, finally finding my voice. "I understand you."
The journey took hours, and every time the plane jolted, I squeezed his hand tight. He didn't let go once until we landed. The driver was waiting for us at the airport, and we drove straight to the estate. As soon as we arrived, the staff swarmed the car, greeting Leon with genuine smiles, they seemed truly happy to see him back.
"Welcome back, Mr. President."
Leon's response was just a smile and a subtle wave.
Lan, brushed past me as I carried Leon's smaller bags. He leaned in, whispering, "How was the trip?"
"It went well," I replied, though my head was still spinning.
Inside, Leon went straight to his quarters. I carried his bags up with the help of the other staff. Once everything was set, Leon turned to the senior maid. "Prepare something spicy for me."
We both bowed and stepped out. I hurried to my room to change into my short maid uniform, resuming my duties immediately in the kitchen. The other maids were already bustling about, and they started teasing me the moment I walked in, their gazes lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl.
"Uh… what?" I asked, uneasy under their scrutiny.
"You're lucky, Beck," one murmured with a sly nudge. "Even though you're new, the President treats you differently."
I scoffed, tossing a head of lettuce onto the counter. "You're right, he's harsh and difficult! Look how happy you all are; if I were the one at home, I would have been depressed the second I saw him coming."
The maids exchanged knowing looks. "It doesn't look like he's harsh with you, Beck. It's more like... he pampers you differently."
I laughed out loud, nearly dropping my knife. "Please! Don't say he pampers me. The man literally hates me. He's nothing like a gentleman. Compared to Mr. Frank? God, he's so calm and gentle. He speaks with respect, something Mr. President could never manage."
One of them giggled, leaning over the steaming pots. "If you had to choose between Mr. Frank and Mr. President, who would you pick?"
"Mr. Frank, obviously!" I answered without a second thought. "Nobody wants Leon. He's twenty-seven and single for a reason, because nobody wants to deal with his attitude!"
"What about yourself? You're single too, aren't you?" Lan teased.
"I'm still very young! I'm only twenty-two," I said, flipping my hair. "I've heard people say Mr. President can't find love because he's impossible to live with."
The kitchen erupted in laughter. I was on a roll now, fueled by the adrenaline of being back. "I mean, normal people get a cat or a dog for a pet. But him? He has a python. Tell me, who the hell keeps a python as a pet?"
I laughed so hard I didn't notice the footsteps approaching. I didn't see the sudden pallor on the maids' faces or the way Lan's eyes widened in alarm.
"I, Leon Verdanis, happen to be the person who keeps a python as a pet."
The voice was like a bucket of ice water. We were all so caught up in my venting that none of us had noticed him standing in the doorway. The laughter died instantly. I froze, my heart dropping into my shoes as I slowly turned around.
Leon was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his expansive chest. His eyes weren't just cold; they were dark, burning with an intensity that made my breath hitch. But as I looked at him, I saw something I didn't expect. Amidst the anger, there was a flash of something that looked almost like... hurt.
The other maids snapped out of their shock first. They scrambled into a line, bowing so low their heads nearly touched the prep tables.
"Mr. President! We are so sorry!" they cried out in a terrified chorus. "Please forgive us, sir! We didn't mean any disrespect!"
I opened my mouth, the word "Sorry" trembling on the tip of my tongue, but Leon didn't even acknowledge the others. His gaze remained locked on me, piercing through my mask of bravado. He didn't yell. He didn't erupt in the rage I expected. Instead, he simply straightened his posture and began to turn.
"Beck," he said, his voice menacing. "Follow me. Now."