My Boss’s Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Elara has never been on a plane but her prayer has always been simple.

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Whenever she got on a flight for the first time, she prayed for no turbulence. Not because she thought turbulence would kill her. The plane would be fine. Statistics said so.

But panic? A heart attack from sheer terror? That would absolutely kill her.

So far, it seemed the gods were on her side. The flight had been smooth. Calm. No sudden drops. No shaking. Just the steady noise of engines and the occasional shift as they passed through clouds.

It was supposed to be eleven hours from New York to Santorini. Or close to that. She wasn’t sure. Time felt weird up here. Slow and fast at the same time. Like hours were passing but also like she’d only been sitting in this chair for twenty minutes.

Elara turned to look at Marcus. He was reading something on his tablet. He’s always focused.

She put on her best baby face. The kind that looked like she was about to cry.

“How long left? Please?”

Marcus glanced up. He saw her expression and laughed.

Actually laughed. A grey loud one at that.

“Are you crying?”

“No. I’m asking a question.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure.” He set the tablet down. “We’re almost there. Another hour maybe.”

An hour. She could do an hour.

Then something occurred to her.

“How come there’s no flight attendant? Or any of those ladies that are usually on flights? The ones that are sexy and always in their uniforms?”

Marcus leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t want any.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t need strangers on my plane asking if I want peanuts every twenty minutes.”

Fair point.

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Elara kept quiet for maybe ten seconds. Which felt like an eternity. Her brain was already spinning with the next question. The next thought. The next thing she needed to say out loud.

“So-”

“Oh my God, Elara.” Marcus threw his head back. Dramatic. Exasperated.

She smiled. Ignored his reaction completely. “Can I go to the cockpit?”

“What?”

“You know. That place where you can look down. See the controls. Watch the pilot fly.”

Marcus stared at her like she’d just suggested jumping out of the plane mid-flight.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not in the mood to die today. I don’t want anyone distracting my pilot right now.”

“I wouldn’t distract him. I’d just look.”

“You’d ask a thousand questions. You can’t help yourself.”

“I would not.”

“Elara. You asked me seventeen questions in the last hour. Seventeen. I counted.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is absolutely true.”

She opened her mouth to argue. Stopped. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did talk a lot.

Whatever.

Elara laid back in her seat. Pulled out her phone. Opened the browser and typed Santorini Greece into the

search bar.

The images loaded.

White buildings with blue domed roofs. Cliffs overlooking crystal-clear water. Sunsets that looked like paintings. Narrow streets lined with flowers. Beaches with black sand and volcanic rock.

It was beautiful.

Stunning in a way that didn’t look real. Like someone had Photoshopped paradise and called it a place you could actually visit.

She smiled. Actually smiled. The kind of smile that came from deep in her chest and made her whole face

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Chapter 38

feel warm.

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Butterflies started in her stomach.

She couldn’t wait to land.

Couldn’t wait to see it in person. To walk those streets. To stand on those cliffs and look out at the water. To be somewhere that wasn’t New York. That wasn’t the hospital. That wasn’t Marcus’s penthouse or her old apartment or any of the places that reminded her of debt and secrets and everything she was running from.

For few days, she could just be a woman on her honeymoon. In Greece. With a ring on her finger and a man who made her feel things she absolutely should not be feeling.

Even if it was fake.

Even if none of it was real.

She’d take it.

“What are you smiling about?”

Marcus’s voice pulled her back. She looked up. He was watching her.

“Nothing. Just looking at pictures.”

“Of Santorini?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll like it.”

The plane shifted slightly. A gentle dip. Elara’s stomach lurched.

“We’re descending,” Marcus said before she could panic. “Just the pilot adjusting altitude. We’ll be on the ground in a few minutes.”

Some minutes.

Elara gripped the armrests. Not because she was scared. Just because landing always felt weird. Like falling in slow motion.

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