Donald's pov

After breakfast, the plane had landed at the city's civilian airport.

"Thank you, Mr. Donald, for your hospitality, see you later, and I hope we never meet again in this life." Trista unceremoniously exited the plane, grabbed a cab, and drove away.

I watched her disappear again, and my eyes darkened.

"Young master, are we going home?" asked Ira gently.

"Back to the office." Ira added conversationally, "Do you want to check his identity?"

Ira's pov

The young master's gaze swept over coldly, as if accusing me of being nosy.

I cringed and was about to say that I was nosy, but to my surprise the young gentleman...