Chapter 11
Chapter 11
As the plane landed, Truman hurried from the restroom to his seat, securing his belt.
The aircraft rolled along the runway, the cabin bathed in the calm, golden light of the setting sun, painting a picture of peaceful beauty. Morris, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in Cherise, watching her as if she were the only thing that mattered.
Cherise felt his gaze and turned to him, their eyes locking in a silent, intimate moment.
“Are you looking at me?” Cherise teased, her voice soft and musical.
Truman, always eager for a bit of drama, looked over just in time to hear Morris’s deep voice fill the quiet. “Yeah, you’re breathtaking.”
The unexpected compliment made Truman sputter, sending water droplets across the dashboard.
Truman couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Morris, the guy who usually kept his distance from women and never seemed fazed by anyone, not even a celebrity like Melissa, was acting out of character. Cherise, accustomed to compliments, just smiled and replied, “Thank you,” as she collected her things, indicating she was ready to disembark.
Once off the plane, they were met by medical personnel who carefully moved the child onto a stretcher. Cherise’s quick first aid had stabilized the child, but a hospital was necessary for further checks.
In the midst of the other passengers leaving the plane, Cherise quickly conferred with the medical team and bid farewell to the child’s mother before departing.
After disembarking, Morris looked around for Cherise but couldn’t find her, his expression growing increasingly gloomy.
Truman was walking over as he picked up on Morris’s mood shift. ‘What’s going on? Morris is all over the place today,’ he mused.
“Where’d that beauty go? She vanished in a blink. I was hoping to get her number,” Truman said, but he noticed the atmosphere grow tense as Morris’s mood turned even more frigid.
Steven had remained in Yasvissa to finish up some business, and Leo Sanchez, Morris’s another assistant was there to greet him.
As they made their way through the nearly deserted VIP corridor, they noticed a bubbly young woman in a vintage-style dress with her hair in twin buns, holding a sign that said “Cherise, the Stunning Star!” Truman scoffed, “Cherise, a stunning star? I doubt it. These young girls and their melodramatic ideas.”
However, upon a second look, Truman realized who the young girl was. “Xenia, is that you? I hardly recognized you in that outfit,” Truman exclaimed.
Xenia Simpson, initially bubbling with excitement to see Truman, faltered upon spotting Morris.
“Morris, Truman, what a surprise,” she said, her grin now tight. “I’m here to pick up my friend,” she added, her voice a little less lively.
Xenia, the daughter of Truman’s sister Tina Simpson, was his niece. Truman was a late-in-life child for his father, George Simpson, who was a prominent figure in Betrico. When Tina gave birth to Xenia, Truman was only eight years old. “Really? That outfit’s quite the statement. Your friend’s got to be pretty quirky too,” Truman joked.
“This isn’t quirky. It’s creative. And don’t disrespect my friend, even if you are my uncle. I’ll tell Grandma and Grandpa!” Xenia shot back, not at all intimidated by Morris’s presence. She wouldn’t tolerate anyone belittling her friend. Morris, who seemed to be in a bad mood, appeared even more sullen as he watched the exchange.
“Xenia,” a soft voice called from behind, easing the tension.