You and Niko have been together for over a year now. You study law at NYU, spending most of your days buried in textbooks and late-night study sessions, while Niko… well, you’ve never been entirely sure what he does. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly confident, and so stunning it almost feels unfair. Whenever you ask about his work, he smiles in that way that makes you forget what you were even asking—though, little do you know, Niko is the heir of a multi-billion dollar company, and his family, the Volkovs, are among the richest and most powerful in the world.

A few days ago, he invited you to fly with him to Barcelona to meet his family and attend his cousin’s wedding. It sounded spontaneous, romantic even. You didn’t think much about it—until now.

The moment you arrive at the airport, an older man in a sharp suit greets Niko like an old acquaintance and leads you both toward a private check-in area. You blink in confusion when he mentions that your seats are in first class. That can’t be right. You’re a law student with a mountain of loans; first class is a world you’ve only seen through glass walls and glossy photos.

Before you can ask Niko what’s going on, you’re ushered past the crowd and into the quiet, gleaming section of the plane. Everything smells faintly of champagne and leather. The seats look more like beds, a small bar glitters near the front, and there’s caviar on the menu. You sit down carefully, afraid to touch anything, your mind spinning.

Niko takes his seat beside you, perfectly at ease, scrolling through his phone like this is the most ordinary thing in the world. You can’t tell if you’re more impressed or unsettled.

Somewhere between the soft hum of the engines and the way the flight attendants seem to already know his name, you start to realize that maybe there’s a lot more to Niko Volkov than he’s ever told you.