Chapter 2 The journey

Elena Marquez gripped the handle of her carry-on as she stepped onto the tarmac, the private jet's engines humming softly in the predawn chill. The New York sky was still dark, streaked with the faint glow of city lights, and her breath clouded in the air. Varnell Enterprises' sleek Gulfstream G700 loomed ahead, its polished exterior reflecting the floodlights like a mirror.

She'd arranged every detail of this trip-flight plan, catering, even the brand of bottled water Lucas preferred-but standing here, about to board a plane alone with her cold-hearted boss, felt like stepping into uncharted territory.

The pilot, a wiry man named Captain Reynolds, greeted her with a nod. "Morning, Ms. Marquez. Mr. Varnell's already onboard. We're cleared for takeoff in twenty."

"Thanks, Captain." Elena forced a smile, her stomach twisting. Twenty minutes to steel herself. She climbed the jet's steps, her heels clicking against the metal, and entered the cabin.

The interior was a study in understated luxury: cream leather seats, polished walnut accents, and a faint scent of cedar. Lucas Varnell sat near the window, his laptop open, his profile sharp against the dim cabin lights. He didn't acknowledge her entrance, but she felt his presence like a pressure change, the air heavier just because he was there. She stowed her bag and took the seat across the aisle, leaving enough distance to feel professional but close enough to avoid seeming intimidated.

"Morning, Mr. Varnell," she said, pulling out her tablet to review the Project Alpha brief. "I've uploaded the latest specs to your drive and confirmed the estate staff are prepped for our arrival."

He glanced up, his gray eyes catching hers for a moment before returning to his screen. "Good. I want the neural network models ready for review by noon tomorrow. No delays."

"Understood." Elena's fingers tightened around her tablet. Project Alpha was Lucas's brainchild, an AI designed to predict market trends with unprecedented accuracy. It was also a pressure cooker, with investors breathing down his neck and competitors like Damien Holt circling for any scrap of intel. Her role was to keep the gears turning-scheduling, research, and managing Lucas's impossible standards-while he wrestled with the code.

She opened the project files, scanning the latest updates from the engineering team. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft clack of Lucas's typing and the hum of the jet's engines as it taxied. She stole a glance at him, noting the faint crease between his brows, the way his jaw tightened as he worked. He was always like this-focused to a fault, as if the world beyond his screen didn't exist. But there was something else today, a restlessness in the way he shifted in his seat, his fingers pausing mid-keystroke.

"Problem?" she asked, keeping her tone neutral. It was a risk, prodding him like that. Lucas didn't invite small talk, and she didn't usually offer it.

He didn't look up. "The reinforcement learning algorithm. It's overfitting. Again." His voice was clipped, but there was a rare edge of frustration, like a crack in his polished facade.

Elena hesitated, then leaned forward slightly. "Did you try adjusting the regularization parameters? The last report mentioned L2 penalties might stabilize it."

His eyes flicked to her, sharp and assessing. For a moment, she thought she'd overstepped-her job was logistics, not tech-but then he nodded. "I did. It's not enough. The data's too noisy." He paused, his gaze lingering. "You've been reading the engineering reports."

It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway. "It's my job to know what's at stake." She held his stare, refusing to shrink under the weight of it. "If Project Alpha fails, it's not just your name on the line. It's the whole team."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, gone so fast she might've imagined it. "Noted, Ms. Marquez." He turned back to his laptop, effectively dismissing her.

Elena exhaled, her pulse quicker than she'd like. That fleeting smile was dangerous, a glimpse of something human beneath the ice. She pushed it out of her mind and focused on her tablet, pulling up the estate's layout to double-check the workspace arrangements. The Aspen property was a fortress-six bedrooms, a state-of-the-art office, and panoramic views of the Rockies. Isolated, too, with the nearest town thirty miles away. Perfect for Lucas's need for control, but a challenge for her need to keep her distance.

The jet took off smoothly, the city lights fading into a sea of stars below. Elena tried to work, but her eyes kept drifting to Lucas. He'd swapped his laptop for a leather-bound notebook, scribbling equations in precise, angular handwriting. She'd never seen him use paper before-it was oddly intimate, like catching him in a private ritual.

"Something on your mind, Ms. Marquez?" His voice cut through her thoughts, low and deliberate. He didn't look up, but his pen paused.

Caught. Her cheeks warmed, but she kept her voice steady. "Just curious about the notebook. You don't strike me as the analog type."

He set the pen down, his gaze meeting hers. "It's faster for certain problems. Clears my head." He tilted his head, studying her. "You're observant."

"It's my job," she said again, but the words felt flimsier this time. His scrutiny was unnerving, like he was seeing her for the first time-not just the assistant who anticipated his every need, but Elena, the woman who'd spent two years learning his rhythms.

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" She frowned, thrown by the question.

"This." He gestured vaguely, encompassing the jet, the tablet, her entire existence as his shadow. "You're overqualified. You could be running your own team, your own company. Why stay?"

The question hit like a dart, piercing the armor she'd built around her reasons. She thought of her mother's hospital bills, her brother's tuition, the weight of being the one who held it all together. But she couldn't say that-not to him, not when he'd probably see it as weakness. "I'm good at it," she said instead, her tone clipped. "And I don't quit when things get hard."

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was weighing her words. "Fair enough." He returned to his notebook, but the air felt charged now, like a circuit humming with unspoken questions.

Elena turned to the window, watching the clouds slip by. She didn't like how easily he'd unsettled her, how one question could make her feel exposed. Lucas Varnell was a puzzle, but she wasn't here to solve him. She was here to do her job, get through this trip, and keep her life on track.

The jet landed in Aspen just as the sun crested the mountains, painting the snow-dusted peaks in shades of gold and pink. A black SUV waited on the tarmac, and Elena handled the transfer of their luggage while Lucas took a call, his voice sharp as he argued with someone about data pipelines. She caught fragments-"unacceptable", "re-run the simulations"-and made a mental note to follow up with the engineering team later.

The drive to the estate was quiet, the winding mountain roads flanked by pines and jagged cliffs. Lucas sat in the back with her, his attention on his phone, but she felt his presence like a weight. She focused on the scenery, trying to ignore the way her pulse jumped when his knee brushed hers as the car turned.

The estate came into view after an hour, a modern masterpiece of glass and stone perched on a ridge. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the mountains, and a wide deck wrapped around the main level, offering views that stole her breath. It was beautiful, but it felt like Lucas-stunning, untouchable, and a little too perfect.

Inside, the air was warm, scented with pine and leather. The housekeeper, a brisk woman named Margaret, greeted them with keys and a rundown of amenities. "The office is fully equipped, Mr. Varnell. Ms. Marquez, your room is on the second floor, east wing."

"Thank you, Margaret," Elena said, already mentally mapping the space. She needed to set up the office, test the Wi-Fi, and ensure Lucas had everything he needed to dive into Project Alpha.

Lucas was already heading for the office, his coat slung over one arm. "Elena, I want the team on a video call in thirty minutes. And pull the latest data sets."

"On it." She followed him, her tablet in hand, slipping back into the rhythm of work. But as she stepped into the office-a sleek space with monitors, whiteboards, and a view of the mountains-she felt a shift. This wasn't the sterile corporate world of New York. This was Lucas's sanctuary, and she was an intruder.

He stood at the window, his back to her, the morning light outlining his broad shoulders. "This project," he said, almost to himself, "it's make-or-break. You understand that, don't you?"

She paused, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "I do. That's why I'm here."

He turned, his eyes searching hers. "Good. Because I don't trust anyone else to get this right."

The words landed like a stone in her chest. Trust. From Lucas Varnell. It was a rare gift, one she wasn't sure she wanted. But before she could respond, he was back to business, barking orders about data models and timelines.

Elena set to work, her mind spinning. This trip was already more complicated than she'd expected, and they'd barely begun.