Page 64 of Taken By Sin

“So are you,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, and I turn to find him watching me again, his gaze filled with something deeper, something that makes my heart flutter.

I don’t answer, but the warmth in my chest speaks louder than words. The jet eventually levels out, and the seatbelt sign dings off, but I don’t let go of his hand. I don’t think I’ll need to; not for the rest of this flight, or maybe for a long time after.

“Here.” He stands, still holding my hand. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

We move closer to where Bria is, sitting on the bench opposite her. Before we sit down, the woman comes by, bringing blankets and pillows. Sin sits on the edge and gestures for me to lie on him. I extend my legs, and he places a pillow on his. Isnuggle onto him, feeling the weight of the blanket as the throws it over my body.

I slip into a deep, comfortable sleep, hearing him having quiet conversations with the others in the cabin. “Dim the lights,” he tells one of the girls, but that doesn’t matter because he has his palm gently draped over my eyes, blocking any light from bothering me.

TWENTY-SIX

Agentle shake wakes me. I feel so well-rested, and I know that’s due to sleeping in Sin’s arms.

I lean up and stretch, noting a hint of light leaking into the cabin.

“It’s daytime?” I croak.

“Ten-hour flight,” Bria groans, getting up herself. “What time is it?”

“Seven in the morning.”

The plane begins its descent as the first golden rays of sunlight spill over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. I press my face closer to the window, my breath catching at the sight below—rolling hills dotted with ancient villages, the rooftops glowing in the morning light. Italy. I can hardly believe we’re here.

“You’re quiet,” Sin says, his voice husky. I wondered if he had slept, and that tone tells me he did. He stretches in his seatbeside me, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he watches me. “Nervous about landing?”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head but unable to tear my eyes away from the view. “Just… taking it all in. It’s beautiful.”

He leans closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he looks out the window with me. “Wait until you’re down there. This is just the beginning.”

The wheels touch down on the runway with a faint bump, and I exhale, realizing I’d been holding my breath. The cabin fills with the soft whir of systems powering down, and the hum of excitement I’d felt since takeoff grows louder. I’m here. We’re here.

The flight attendant opens the door, and a rush of fresh, crisp air floods the cabin, carrying with it the faint scent of something earthy and sweet—olive trees, maybe, or blooming fall flowers. Sin stands, stretching briefly before reaching down to take my hand.

“Come on,” he says, his grin contagious as he helps me out of my seat.

I follow him down the steps, my feet meeting the warm tarmac as the rising sun bathes everything in golden light.

The airport is small and quiet, a far cry from the bustling chaos I’d imagined. Beyond it, I can see vineyards stretching into the distance and a skyline dotted with terracotta rooftops.

I take a deep breath. “So, what’s first?” I ask, turning to him with a mix of curiosity and excitement. The nerves are mostly for meeting his dad.

He steps closer, his eyes sparkling in the morning light. “First,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face, “we find the perfect espresso.”

“Ugh!” Brie moans. “I would die for an espresso right now.”

I give her a smile, watching as Maxwell and Rollins set our bags in the car.

A breeze whips by tossing hair in my face, Sin moves it gently. I laugh, the sound light and unrestrained, and as we walk toward the awaiting stretched SUV with everyone in tow, I feel it: that indescribable rush of stepping into something new.

Italy spreads out before us, ancient and alive, and for the first time in a long time, I feel completely untethered.

“Welcome to Italy, mi amore,” Sin whispers into my ear.

Bria looks so well put together; her legs politely crossed as she sips on her bubbly champagne mixed with orange juice.

Sin grabs a sparkling water from the small leather cooler underneath the crystal glasses, handing me one. It bubbles on my tongue, soothing and vibrant.

“Please tell me we’re not going straight to Dad’s,” Bria sighs.

---