The Valmont private jet sliced through the night sky on its way home. The main cabin shimmered with quiet luxury—impeccable leather, warm ambient lighting, and a bar that looked designed to solve existential crises… though it was clearly failing tonight.
Adrian reclined in his seat, massaging his temple with the melodrama of a classical tragedy actor. The whiskey in his hand had remained untouched long enough to qualify as decoration.
Across from him, Meilan watched.
Arms crossed.Leg over leg.Heel swaying slowly.
Universal signs of imminent disaster.
"So…" she said at last. "Nice suite?"
Adrian stopped rubbing his temple.
"…It had good acoustics."
The heel stopped swaying.
"Acoustics?"
"For… diplomatic conversations."
Meilan smiled.
It was not a reassuring smile.
She stepped on his shoe.
Hard.
Adrian inhaled through his nose like a champion trying not to scream.
"Oh," she murmured. "Sorry. Emotional turbulence."
"Meilan, I can explain—"
She pressed her heel down a little harder.
"You slept with your political fiancée, Adrian."
"It was part of the strategic agreement—"
A pinch to his forearm.
Quick.Precise.Lethal.
"Don't use long words," she said. "They only make the crime worse."
Adrian exhaled slowly.
"It strengthens the alliance with Sterling."
"I see."
Pinch to his side.
"That was unnecessary!"
"That was emotionally expressive."
Adrian let his head fall back against the seat.
"You know this is work."
"Of course," she replied sweetly, venom threaded through her tone. "Nothing says 'corporate duty' like kissing someone against a window overlooking the Mediterranean."
He tried to sit up.
Meilan pushed him back with a single finger against his chest.
"Don't you dare move. I'm in the middle of a therapeutic process."
"For whom?"
"For me. You're the practice material."
Adrian ran a hand over his face.
"I'm not replacing you."
She tilted her head.
"I'm not competing."
Second stomp.
Slower.More personal.
"I'm just reminding you that you're a romantic disaster with an unlimited budget."
"That's cruel."
"That's historically verifiable."
Adrian attempted to reclaim some dignity by crossing his legs.
Meilan looked at him.
Then pinched his knee.
He uncrossed them immediately.
"This is abuse."
"This is physical feedback."
Silence.
She sighed, resting her elbow on the armrest.
"Tell me something… did you enjoy it?"
Adrian hesitated.
Mistake.
Double pinch to the arm.
"OW! THAT'S NOT AN EASY QUESTION!"
"Correct. That's why I asked."
He drew a deep breath.
"It wasn't about enjoyment."
Meilan studied him for several long seconds.
Then she lifted her heel from his foot.
"Good. That answer saved your other leg."
Adrian flexed his toes as if circulation had just been restored.
"I'm glad I'll still be walking."
"Don't celebrate yet."
She uncrossed her arms and leaned toward him.
"Listen… I don't mind alliances. I don't mind Katherine. Or Selena."
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"Then—"
A small pinch to his hand.
Softer.But direct.
"I mind when you act like you're invincible… and forget that some people choose to stay with you knowing exactly how problematic you are."
Her tone had dropped half a register.
Still firm.But more honest.
Adrian intertwined his fingers with hers.
"You're not here out of obligation."
"Exactly."
"You're here because you want to be."
"Exactly."
"Then trust that I won't destroy the one thing I can't rebuild with money."
Meilan looked at him for several seconds.
Then sighed.
She let go of his hand…
Only to give his fingers a tiny pinch.
"You're insufferable when you say the right things."
"I consider that progress."
"Don't get used to it."
She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes.
"Tomorrow you're having breakfast alone. No phone. No meetings. You're going to reflect on your tendency to kiss investments."
"Is that official punishment?"
"That's a rehabilitation program."
Adrian looked at his shoe, still marked by her heel.
"In other worlds you punished me with legendary swords."
"Yes."
"This hurts more."
"I've professionalized my methods."
A brief silence.
Then Meilan added without opening her eyes:
"And if I ever smell Sterling's perfume on your neck again…"
"The couch. I remember."
She shook her head slightly.
"No. This time I'm sending you to Clara to sample experimental flavors for a week."
Adrian paled.
"That's a war crime."
"That's family justice."
He stared into the darkness beyond the window, smiling in resignation.
He could manipulate markets, ruin heroes, and negotiate with entire governments…
But Meilan was the only territory he could never conquer.
The cabin of the jet gradually dissolved into a different kind of chaos—one scented with leather, perfume, and contained adrenaline. No one would have dared interrupt; this disorder belonged solely to them.
Adrian's breathing grew uneven as he lay back against the leather divan, every muscle claimed by Meilan. Her fingers tangled in his hair, firm yet deliberate—a caress and a warning at once: You're mine.
"Tell me again who you belong to," she whispered, voice rough, eyes locked on his with a mix of challenge and heat.
Adrian let out a low, husky laugh. "You already know," he murmured, leaning closer. "I own the world out there… but in here… in here I'm the man who would burn every contract, every rule, just to see you like this…"
Her thumb brushed his lips, playful and possessive.
The contact sparked. Every touch left a trail of heat. His lips barely grazed hers while she watched him with that infuriating blend of challenge and amusement that drove him wild.
"You're mine," she said, steady but amused. "Do you feel it?"
"Yes… I feel it," he breathed. "Everything I am… is yours here."
The jet seemed to shrink around them. The engines faded into a distant hum compared to the rhythm of their bodies. Their breaths intertwined—trembling, playful—punctuated by soft laughter and whispered sounds. Meilan rested her forehead against his, staking her claim; Adrian answered with a low growl, possessiveness etched into every movement.
"You're an idiot," she whispered, brushing his lip. "And yet… you drive me insane."
"Meilan…" he murmured against her neck. "I'm yours… and every part of me knows it."
Minutes blurred. The cabin filled with charged electricity, a game both possessive and playful. No more words were needed—only breath, touch, closeness. The jet could travel a thousand miles; they could cross centuries in a single moment.
Meanwhile, in a luxury suite in a city of the Fire Nation…
Lin Feng jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. His eyes flew open with the intensity of someone who had seen the end of the world. The walls before him were covered in newspaper clippings, maps, and blurred photographs of Meilan taken in secret—fragments of a destiny he swore to change.
[REGRESSION SYSTEM: Memory synchronization at 94%]Vision detected: The sacrifice of the Jade Queen.
"Meilan…" he whispered hoarsely, touching the laptop screen where she appeared in her school uniform. "I have to save you from that demon. In the previous timeline, you died protecting him. He used you as a shield. Your family… destroyed. The Valmonts… untouchable."
He clenched his fists until his knuckles ached. The memory of a fragile Meilan overlapped with the image of Adrian—the man who had used her without mercy.
"This time will be different," he vowed, striking the desk. "I came back ten years with the power of the Eternal Consortium just to save you. I don't care that you're the heir to the imperial family of the Fire Nation… to me, you'll always be the kindest woman I ever knew. The one who saved me."
He inhaled deeply and grabbed his phone, dialing the private number that had cost him a fortune on the black market.
"Pick up, Meilan. Pick up and let me save you."
The jet's landing was a study in contrasts.
Adrian descended the stairs with the elegance of a monarch accustomed to the world adjusting to his stride. But to a careful observer, something was slightly off. His posture remained flawless… yet his usual firmness was gone. A subtle tremor lingered in his knees—a physical echo of Meilan's intensive reconciliation program during the flight.
Meilan followed behind him with immaculate energy. Hair perfectly styled. Expression relaxed. A predator's smile carrying a clear message:
Problem solved… for now.
The black car waited at the foot of the runway. Meilan opened the rear door with courtesy so precise it bordered on mockery.
"Careful stepping in, 'boss,'" she whispered near his ear, her breath still faintly mint-sweet from the cabin. "We wouldn't want your legs collapsing in front of the staff. It would damage your imperial statue reputation."
Adrian slid into the vehicle with dignity… then sank into the leather seat as if he had survived divine judgment.
"You're… merciless," he muttered, adjusting his tie with fingers still debating obedience or surrender. "I believe your position has been… thoroughly expressed."
The silence inside the car carried the weight of what had happened midair—hours of a reconciliation so relentless it left nothing unresolved except the tremor in Adrian's legs.
"I was simply ensuring you had no energy left to consider any additional 'strategic variables,'" she replied elegantly. "Call it preventative fidelity maintenance."
Adrian gave a dry laugh.
"You completely drained me, Meilan. If any of those protagonists tried to seduce me now, I'd probably fall asleep halfway through from exhaustion."
"That," she said calmly, "is precisely the objective."
The car pulled away from the airport.
Her phone rang, slicing through the lingering mischief. Meilan glanced at the screen, sighed, and declined the call. It rang again. And again.
"Answer it," Adrian said. "If they're that persistent, it must be important."
She accepted the call, her voice colder than usual.
Adrian didn't know it—but the caller was Lin Feng, the man who claimed to have returned from the future.
To the world, Meilan was merely Adrian's shadow, his loyal guardian. No one suspected she was heir to one of the continent's oldest fortunes.
She had disguised herself as a nurse just to get close to him, driven by something beyond reason: since childhood, his face had haunted her dreams—the same man dying in her arms after sacrificing everything to protect her. When she recognized him in the news after that traffic accident, she knew she had to meet him in real life. Now, as his daily caretaker—and something more—she remained at his side in silence, hiding her true lineage to protect the fragile thread of fate binding them.
"Meilan… listen to me," Lin Feng's voice was desperate, disturbingly familiar. "You need to return to the Fire Nation. Stay away from the Valmonts. They're greedy and deceitful. Stay away from him. In three years, Valmont will be your downfall. I… came back to save you, Jade Queen."
Meilan's grip tightened around the phone until her knuckles whitened.
Adrian noticed the shift in the air.
Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her—intense, decisive—shattering the tension in a single motion.
She pulled back only slightly, smiling with that same blend of amusement and challenge that always disarmed him.
"Nothing important," she said, ending the call with a sharp click, as if the outside world simply did not matter.
Adrian studied her, trying to decide whether that smile was one of complicity…
…or warning.