Alia’s eyebrow twitched violently, as though she had strained the muscles in her face. Beside her, Matteo looked similarly pleased with this turn of events.
That was to say, not at all.
"It seems like the plane ride will be overly crowded. All of you can fly ahead, Alia and I will take the next flight," Matteo said without batting an eye as he wrapped an arm around Alia’s waist, ready to drag her away to the tarmac if necessary.
Forget flying by private jet, Matteo would pick flying with a budget airline with no food, no legroom, and a legion of crying, pooping infants if it ant not sharing a flight with Emline and his stepmom.
But before his escape plan could co into play, Horace Hawthorne arrived on the scene, his face an expression of beaming delight as he saw everyone already waiting.
"Good good, we can all get on the flight now," Horace said heartily.
"Grandpa, aren’t we supposed to fly separately?" Alia asked, desperately hoping for her grandfather to be the voice of reason. "I’m not sure if there’s enough room for all of us on the plane."
After all, the collective egos of Catherine, Annalise, and Emline could cause any plane to sink into the ocean. Alia would gladly fling herself out of the plane if it ant she could escape.
Annalise caught Emline’s eyes, and together, they let out a chorus of mocking laughter. Annalise pretended to wipe away a tear from her eyes.
"Oh, you’re hilarious, Alia. How could I forget that you grew up poor? Any private flight has more than enough room for all of us; it isn’t like that rusted tin can you call a car."
Alia’s face flushed with anger. She didn’t doubt that Annalise did her research and dug up every single ignoble detail about her life. That rusted tin can was a secondhand car her father scrimped and saved to afford in a bid to make her life more convenient when traveling for jobs. Eventually, like everything else, it was sold for more money.
anwhile, Horace Hawthorne caught Alia’s humiliated expression and his heart ached for her. If he had not been so stubborn about Elaine’s choice of partner and made greater efforts to locate her family years later, his granddaughter Alia would never have been forced to suffer such indignities.
A rusted tin can for a car! Just the very thought made him upset. His precious granddaughter could have gotten into a car accident with that!
"Annalise!" Horace scolded. "How can you be so rude!"
Whatever vindictive joy Annalise felt evaporated when her father-in-law stepped up to defend Alia. She gnashed her teeth. Foolish old man. Why wouldn’t he die already?
"Grandpa, Mama just misspoken," Emline said, quickly trying to reduce the tension. "But it’s true that cousin Alia has never been on a plane, let alone one as grand as our own. I guess we’re all very excited to share this experience with her!"
Horace felt even worse. Alia had never flown on a plane! He had much to rectify.
Emline continued, her face crestfallen, "But Alia and Matteo insist on getting their own flight... Grandpa, I just think it’s a waste of resources since we’re all heading to the sa place anyway. Didn’t you say it was important to be frugal? We have to think about the environnt too!"
Matteo let out a snort. Right. Because the Hawthornes were so lacking in wealth they had to be frugal. If they cared for the environnt, they would never have let Emline produce a landfill’s worth of waste every ti she went on a shopping spree.
However, her words struck a chord with Horace, who nodded and turned to Alia pleadingly, reaching out his wrinkly hands to hold her own.
"Alia and Matteo, would you mind spending ti with this old man on our flight?" He lowered his voice, "I’ll make sure they behave themselves."
Alia had doubts about her grandfather’s effectiveness, but she couldn’t refuse without making herself seem like an ingrate. She nodded, and Matteo could only abide by Alia’s decisions.
Emline smiled like Christmas had co early. Now, there was nowhere the couple could run!
However, her smile slowly faded as they made their way on the plane. Her grandfather had simply sequestered Alia and Matteo in one loveseat, while he sat across them, putting his cane on the other seat― a wordless reminder that he wanted no one sitting beside him for this duration.
Annalise and Catherine could only flounce off to another end of the plane, where they shot the couple with venomous looks.
"Emline, co on, sit next to ," Aiden called out, and Emline pulled a face. "You know you want to, babe."
"You’re such a sleazebag," Emline gritted out and moved to sit at an empty seat, her eyes focused on Matteo’s face.
He was staring at Alia with fervent adoration while she gazed around wide-eyed at the interior of the private jet like the country bumpkin she was. She was asking questions, and Matteo answered each and every one of them without losing his patience.
In fact, he seed delighted that Alia was asking him for his opinion.
Emline gripped the handrest tightly. What was so great about Aline Hawthorne that it made Matteo act like such a fool around her?
"Green is not your color," Aiden whispered into her ear and darted away before she could smack him. Before she could chase him away, he took the seat beside her. "Keep staring at him, and old man Horace might decide to kick you off the plane to make his new princess happy."
"You―" Emline seethed, incensed at his words. She sucked in a breath to calm herself down, lest she did sothing to ruin her reputation in the eyes of her future mother-in-law. "Fine. You’re right."
"By the way, I thought about your little proposal," Aiden said, his voice lowered. "It’s utterly devious. And my answer is yes."
"Good," Emline said, feeling so of her rage settle down. She just had to have so patience. Matteo would be hers eventually.
Reviews
All reviews (0)