WRITER'S POV:
There were worse fates than being the only flight attendant on a private jet.Ivy just couldn't think of any at the moment.She was seated on a plush jump seat, legs crossed, clipboard in hand (mostly for show), trying very hard not to look like she was hyperaware of Cassius across the aisle. He was glued to his phone, face carved from brooding marble, and showing all the warmth of a tax audit.Jason and Monday, naturally, were making everything worse."You look tense," Jason said, peering over the seat divider like a nosy cousin. "Is it the turbulence or the slow burn of forbidden lust?""She's probably reliving the wine rejection," Monday chimed in, sipping espresso like it was tea in a gossip column. "Tell me, Ivy—do you always offer fine Merlot to stone statues?""You two are unbearable," Ivy muttered, cheeks warming."We live to serve," Jason said with a wink.She tried to tune them out. The jet hummed around her. Cassius didn't glance up once, despite the fact that Ivy was clearly—objectively—not looking at him every five seconds.She wasn't.Probably.---Hours passed. The flight was long. Somewhere over international waters, Ivy dozed off in her seat, head resting lightly against the side of the cabin. A gentle dip in altitude stirred her awake. She blinked, stretched, and wandered groggily toward the rear of the jet, yawning as she approached the bathroom.She opened the door.And found Cassius.Shirtless.He was mid-change, one arm still tangled in the sleeve of a crisp black shirt. His chest was all angles and muscle, marked by a sweeping tattoo that curled from his ribs across his torso like a secret map. He glanced up at her in the mirror.Ivy forgot how to close doors.Her hand hovered in the air, brain buffering. He turned, slow and deliberate, one brow raised in something between irritation and curiosity."Do you mind?" he asked, voice like gravel and silk."Right! Sorry! I—thought this was—door! Bathroom!" she sputtered, still not moving.He took a step forward. Calm. Unhurried. Still shirtless.Then he reached past her—his arm brushing hers—and shut the door.Click.It locked.Ivy stared at the wood grain.---She stumbled back to her seat in a daze, blinking hard. Did that just happen? Was she hallucinating jet-lagged abs and mafia-grade muscle? Did Cassius have a tattoo or was that just her dignity unspooling into spirals?She sat down slowly, clutching a throw pillow like a life preserver. Jason and Monday were both sprawled across their seats, napping like chaos goblins in repose.The jet droned on.She peeked up—no sign of Cassius.Maybe he'd let it go.Maybe he'd forget she ever burst in like a clumsy pervert.The lavatory door opened. Footsteps.She panicked and did the only logical thing: flopped over in her seat, closed her eyes, and pretended to be asleep.Very realistic. Very casual.Cassius's footsteps stopped.Then she felt it. That quiet pressure of someone standing directly above her. Looming."Ivy."She didn't move."Ivy."Still nothing.He leaned closer. His voice dropped—smooth and cold. "You saw something. You stared."Her eyes squeezed tighter. If she was still, she was invisible."You're coming with me," he said flatly. "Now."No response. Maybe if she just stayed limp enough—"Or," Cassius continued, voice now all steel and very little silk, "I drag you back to the lavatory myself."Her eyes snapped open.He was watching her. Unamused. Not angry—no, that would be easier. He looked... curious. Like she was a puzzle piece that had wandered into his chessboard.She sat up slowly, heart pounding. "You're overreacting.""Then prove it," he said. "Explain."He stepped back, waiting.Ivy stood, wobbled slightly, and cursed the universe for making him tall and terrifying.She followed him down the narrow aisle, knowing full well Jason and Monday would pretend to sleep and secretly record this for future blackmail.Whatever this was, she was definitely in deeper than she thought.And Cassius knew it.
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The lavatory door shut behind them with a quiet click, sealing Ivy into what was arguably the world's most luxurious panic room. Marble finishes, gold trim, enough legroom to start a revolution—and Cassius, standing far too close in a space that was suddenly all heat and threat.He didn't say anything at first. Just leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his now-covered chest, watching her like she was a storm cloud he'd chosen to stand under.Ivy kept her arms tightly crossed. It wasn't defensive. It was... okay, fine, it was absolutely defensive."This feels excessive," she managed, voice thin.Cassius tilted his head. "You walked in on me shirtless. Stared like I was some kind of art installation. Then pretended to be asleep.""I didn't stare," she lied, unconvincingly.He raised one eyebrow. The judgment in that one expression could have vaporized steel."It was like—one second," she added quickly. "Half a second. A polite second. I looked and then I left.""No," Cassius said, his voice low and even. "You looked. Then you lingered."Ivy's entire face tried to burst into flames."I thought you had a medical tattoo," she blurted. "Like a prescription warning. Or a barcode."That—of all things—made him laugh. Not a full laugh. Just a low, shocked exhale that curled at the corners of his mouth into a real, human smirk.Ivy blinked. "Oh my God. You smiled. That's illegal."He stepped closer, the smirk not fading. "Tell me something, Ivy."She backed up until her spine hit the wall. "Why do I feel like this question comes with consequences?"Cassius placed a hand against the wall beside her head, leaning in just enough to make the air between them feel magnetic."Are you always that thirsty for your employer," he asked, "or is it just me?"Her soul left her body.Her mouth opened. Closed. Tried to form words and failed spectacularly."Excuse me?""I'm giving you a chance to explain," he said softly, voice threaded with amusement now. "Because if I'm wrong—if you weren't staring—I'll let it go. We'll forget it happened."She opened her mouth again, trying to summon a coherent sentence, and all that came out was a high-pitched squeak that betrayed every lie she wanted to tell.Cassius exhaled through his nose like he was trying not to laugh."Didn't think so," he said.She shoved past him, face blazing, and yanked the door open."We're never talking about this again," she hissed."Of course not," he said behind her. "I'll just silently enjoy the memory."Ivy stomped back to her seat, absolutely certain she could never look him in the eye again.Monday and Jason were still pretending to sleep.And Ivy had a horrible feeling Cassius had finally figured out how to win.By making her lose her mind first.