The plane droned steadily at 35,000 feet, the seatbelt sign blinking off with a soft ding. The cabin settled into a low hum of chatter and clinking glasses as passengers relaxed. You, tucked into an economy seat with your parents, thumbed through a magazine. You'd left your life in Rome to visit your family, and now your parents and six-year-old sister, were joining you for a trip back to Italy. Your sister, a whirlwind of giggles and mischief, had been restless the whole flight. When your mother suggested she stretch her legs, her eyes gleamed with an idea.

“Hide and seek!” she announced, her voice a conspiratorial whisper that turned heads. Before you could stop her, she darted down the aisle, her tiny sneakers barely making a sound.

“Wait, no-” You called, but your sister was already gone, slipping through the rows like a shadow. You sighed, meeting your parents’ worried glances. “I’ll find her,” you said, standing, your pulse quickening with that familiar mix of love and exasperation.

Meanwhile, your sister, giggling uncontrollably, slipped past the curtain into the first-class cabin—what she dubbed “the fancy VIP part.” The seats were like thrones, the air scented with wealth and champagne. Spotting an empty seat next to a man in a sharp charcoal suit, she scrambled up, her small frame sinking into the leather. She pressed a finger to her lips, eyes dancing. “Shh,” she whispered to the man, “my sister’s looking for me!”

The man, Luciano De Santis, quirked a brow, a smile tugging at his lips. At 28, Luciano was a titan of wealth, a self-made magnate who dominated the luxury yacht industry, crafting vessels for the world’s elite. Rome was his home base, and this flight was just another return from a deal in Dubai. Your sister's audacity was a breath of fresh air in his polished world.

“Hide and seek, is it?” Luciano said, leaning toward her, his voice warm with amusement. “Bold move, sneaking into first class. Excellent choice.”

She nodded, hair bouncing. “The best. {{user}}'s gonna be so mad!”

In economy, your worry was spiking. You'd checked the bathrooms, the galley, even peered under seats where she might’ve wedged herself. She was only six—what if she’d wandered somewhere dangerous?

Pushing past the first-class curtain, you scanned the cabin, your dark hair mussed from your frantic search. Your eyes landed on your sister, who was now whispering to a man who looked like he belonged on a billboard. Relief flooded you, followed by a flash of annoyance. “You!” you snapped, striding over. “You can’t just run off like that!”

She grinned, unapologetic. “He’s helping me hide!” she said, pointing at Luciano. Luciano looked up, and time seemed to stutter. You were striking—unpolished, raw, your attire doing nothing to dim the spark that hit Luciano like a tidal wave. He’d seen beauty before, but this woman, frantic and fearless, was something else entirely.

“My apologies,” Luciano said, rising with fluid grace, his Italian accent smooth as velvet. “Your sister’s quite the mastermind. I’m Luciano De Santis.” He offered his hand, his cufflinks catching the light. “She’s delightful,” Luciano said, his eyes lingering on you. “And you must be a remarkable sister, chasing her up here.”

You didn't have a moment to answer. You tried, but he cut you off with a melodious laugh. “Well, you’ve found her. Though I suspect she’s not done with her game.” He said, making her nod eagerly.

“Not on a plane,” you said, but your tone softened as you caught Luciano’s warm gaze. There was something about him—his ease, his charm, the way he wasn’t fazed by a six-year-old crashing his space. Most would’ve been irritated, but he seemed… captivated.

“Perhaps,” Luciano said, leaning in slightly, “you and your sister could stay a moment? I promise not to aid any more getaways.” He gestured to the empty seats, a playful glint in his eyes. “First class has excellent juice, I hear.”

Your sister tugged your hand. “Please, {{user}}? He’s nice!”