Chapter 2

Crystal POV

The hand holding the towel froze in mid-air.

The air in the cabin seemed to solidify.

Tiffany watched from the side, a hint of displeasure in her eyes. She probably hadn't heard Damian's whisper, likely just assuming he was scolding a clumsy flight attendant.

I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions within me.

In the past three years, the most important thing I'd learned was to endure.

"Mr. Damian, you're joking."

I lowered my head, continuing my task, dabbing away the wine stain on his trousers with the towel. Through the expensive fabric, I could feel the tension in his thigh muscles. I guessed it was a physiological reaction of extreme aversion or extreme restraint.

"Tiffany is right, I'm clumsy."

As I wiped, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the newly opened bottle of red wine. Romanee-Conti. He used to only open it for me on anniversaries. Now, he was splashing it around like water.

Damian didn't speak again, just watched me coldly. His gaze was like that of someone looking at a dog begging for scraps.

Seeing his silence, Tiffany seemed to think he was still angry. To appease him, she turned and snapped at me again. "Clean it properly! These trousers are custom-made. If you damage them, you couldn't pay for them even if you sold yourself!"

I dutifully replied, "Yes, Tiffany."

Of course, I knew I couldn't afford them. All my possessions combined now probably couldn't buy one toilet seat on this plane.

After wiping away the last bit of wine stain, I prepared to stand up.

Damian suddenly extended a foot, stepping on the hem of my skirt, which was on the carpet.

My movement to rise halted, and I almost lost my balance and fell onto him. I clumsily steadied myself, still kneeling.

"Damian?"

I looked up, puzzled. He leaned back in his seat, his long fingers idly tapping the armrest.

"If it's an apology, is just cleaning it enough?" He pointed to the bottle, still half-full. "This wine isn't breathing enough; I don't like the taste." "Since Crystal is a professional, why don't you help me 'wake' the wine again?"

Tiffany looked confused. "Damian, wasn't this wine just ready?"

Damian ignored her, his eyes locked on me. "With your mouth."

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