Amelia should have left after that.
She knew she should have.
Walked off the plane. Walked out of the job. Walked away from him before this got worse.
Instead, she stayed.
Not because she wanted to.
Because she couldn't afford not to
By the time the plane leveled out, the anger had settled.
Not gone.
Just… quieter.
Colder.
More controlled.
She moved through the cabin, checking details that didn't need checking, adjusting things that were already perfect.
Anything to keep her hands busy.
Anything to stop thinking about him.
Because I wanted something.
Her jaw tightened.
People didn't just say things like that.
They didn't just do things like that.
Buy companies.
Call strangers.
Decide.
Like the world adjusted itself around them.
"Amelia."
Her body reacted before her mind did.
She turned slowly.
Marco was watching her.
Same seat.
Same posture.
Same calm.
Nothing about him had changed.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
"Yes, sir?"
"Come here."
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
"No."
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Silence.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But sharp enough that she felt it.
Marco didn't react.
Didn't frown.
Didn't move.
He just looked at her.
Slowly.
Completely.
Like he had expected it.
"You're learning," he said.
Her chest tightened.
"I'm working."
"No," he said quietly. "You're avoiding me."
"That would suggest I have a choice."
"You do."
It sounded so simple.
So easy.
Like choice meant something here.
Amelia walked toward him anyway.
Because she knew better.
Because resistance felt expensive now.
Because everything did.
She stopped a few feet away.
Not too close.
Not close enough for him to touch.
"Closer."
She didn't move.
Her phone lit up in her pocket.
A notification.
Another reminder.
Her jaw tightened.
Then she stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Until she was where he wanted her.
"Stop."
She did.
Of course she did.
"What do you want?" she asked.
He leaned back slightly, studying her.
"You've asked me that before."
"And you gave me a ridiculous answer."
His gaze didn't shift.
"No," he said. "I didn't."
Her stomach tightened.
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is for what I need."
Her pulse skipped.
"And what exactly is that?"
His eyes held hers.
Unmoving.
"You."
The word landed the same way it had before.
Simple.
Certain.
Unavoidable.
Amelia exhaled sharply.
"That is not normal."
"I'm not asking for normal."
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"Then what are you asking for?"
"Your attention."
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
"That's not better."
"It wasn't meant to be."
That hit.
Because he wasn't trying to soften anything.
Wasn't trying to make this easier for her.
He was just saying it.
As it was.
"Why me?" she asked.
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Marco watched her for a moment.
"You don't react the way people usually do."
"Maybe I should."
"Maybe."
Something about that made her stomach tighten.
Like fear would have been easier.
Like resistance made this more interesting.
Her phone buzzed again.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
"You keep pretending the problem in your pocket matters more than the one in front of you."
Her head snapped up.
"You are the problem."
For a second—
something shifted in his eyes.
Not warmth.
Not approval.
Just… recognition.
"Yes," he said.
The agreement hit harder than anything else.
Because he wasn't denying it.
Wasn't hiding it.
Wasn't pretending.
He was telling her exactly what this was.
And that made it worse.
"This ends now," she said.
"No."
The word was quiet.
Flat.
Final.
"You don't get to decide that."
"I already did."
Her pulse spiked.
Anger rising again.
Hot this time.
Sharp.
"You can't just control people like this."
"I can."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just fact.
And she hated that—
because it sounded true.
Because everything he had done so far proved it.
Because she was standing there—
in a situation she hadn't chosen—
because of him.
Amelia took a step back.
Then another.
Distance returning slowly.
Pointlessly.
"You're insane."
"No," he said. "I'm precise."
That unsettled her more.
Because it felt accurate.
Because nothing about him felt random.
Everything felt planned.
Measured.
Intentional.
She turned before he could say anything else.
Walked away.
Not rushing.
But not slowing either.
She could feel it—
his attention following her.
Of course it was.
By the time she reached the service cabin, her breathing had changed.
Shallower.
Uneven.
Her phone buzzed again.
She ignored it.
Not because it didn't matter.
Because everything mattered too much.
This wasn't about work anymore.
It wasn't about a difficult client.
It wasn't even about the company.
It was about him.
And whatever he had decided to make of her.
Amelia closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them again.
Because the truth had settled now.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Marco Vitale wasn't asking.
He wasn't waiting.
He wasn't testing her anymore.
He had already decided.
And men like him didn't stop—
just because they were told no.