Serena arrived at the private terminal with Roman, the chauffeur rolling their luggage behind them.

The small building was quiet, almost serene, a sharp contrast to the chaos of a commercial airport.

Serena looked up at Roman, gripping his hand tightly. “We’re about to fly, yet you wouldn’t even tell me where we’re going?”

Roman sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. You deserve to know.” He handed her the tickets gently.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious? Italy?” she asked, eyes scanning the paper as if confirming it was real.

He hummed softly, remembering how often she had talked about visiting. Now, he was glad he...