Disclaimer: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.
The island was besieged by the storm, which did not simply arrive. The road behind them had already started to turn into a mud and limestone slurry by the time they arrived at The Azure Crest. Nestled into the cliffs of El Nido, the resort was a brutalist masterpiece of dark wood and glass that was ghost-white under the rain's steady battering.
With a tight grip on the small of her back, Zayrius Tan guided her across the foyer. He was controlling the area around her rather than requesting that she move. The mere sight of him caused the resort staff, who are typically the picture of Five-Star composure, to scramble. There was no credit card swipe or ID verification. All it needed for them to be led into the "Summit Villa"—the highest, most remote area of the property—was a shaking manager's mute nod.
As the big oak door of the villa clicked shut behind them, Zayrius muttered, "The power lines in town are down," his voice breaking through the roar of the wind. "The backup generators are holding, but I've told them to kill the non-essentials. We'll have light, but the AC is out."
Feeling small, Elizien Mallari stood in the middle of the lofty living room. On her shoulders, her wet blazer felt like lead. She was a lady who took great satisfaction in knowing the answer to every line item, but she felt the dreadful weight of the unknown as she gazed out at the panoramic windows, which were now nothing more than sheets of black water.
She said, "I need to call the firm," with a little tremor in her voice. "If I don't check in, they'll think the plane went down. The audit timeline is—"
"The towers are dead, Elizien. Look at your phone." Zayrius walked toward a sideboard, his movements fluid and precise, even in the dim light. "You're off the clock. The world has stopped. Accept it."
He filled a crystal glass with two fingers' worth of amber liquid and held it out. "Drink. You're shivering."
Despite her teeth chattering, she snapped, "I'm fine."
Zayrius remained still. He appeared to be the "King of Skies" that Aling Rosa had described as he stood there, silhouetted against the lightning that swept across the water. "That wasn't a request, Accountant."
Elizien accepted the glass. He felt the heat of a low-burning inferno when her fingertips touched his. The whiskey burned a trail of false courage down her throat as she took a drink. Her thoughts returned to that small store in Legaspi Village when the warmth struck her. Her senses were overpowered by the aroma of sandalwood and sampaguita, which seemed to compete with Zayrius's sea-salt fragrance.
"The Tower," Aling Rosa's voice echoed in her head. "A sudden change. Not a crash, but a takeoff."
She gave Zayrius a look. His damp pilot's shirt had been removed, exposing a charcoal-gray undershirt that stuck to his chest's rigid planes. Even though he was five years older than she, the distance seemed like a hundred years in the emergency candles' flickering light. He exuded the worn-out authority of someone who had seen too much and possessed even more.
The question Zayrius posed was, "Why are you looking at me like that?" His arms were folded as he leaned on the massive mahogany table. He was wearing a "grumpy" mask on the tarmac, but underneath it was a raw, jagged intensity that was sliding.
Elizien muttered, "The reader," her tongue loosened by the liquor. "She told me about you. Before I even knew you existed."
Zayrius froze. His hooded, dark gaze narrowed. "You believe in fortune tellers? I thought you lived by the ledger, Elizien. I thought you only believed in what you could count."
She insisted, "I do," and moved in his direction. "But she knew things. She knew about the 'Dragon of the Clouds.' She knew about a man who flies the planes but owns the air. She told me... she told me to look at your eyes, not your hands."
The ensuing quiet was oppressive, like the pressure inside a 30,000-foot airplane cabin. The rain beating violently against the glass was the only sound.
Zayrius clicked his glass down carefully. At that moment, he moved with the unavoidable grace of a predator who has finally decided to stop playing with its victim, rather than the haste of a man in a hurry. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, stopping so close that Elizien had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
He whispered, "And what do you see, Elizien?" His voice was no longer sharp. Her toes curled against the cold floor as a result of the dark, velvety touch. "Do you see a pilot? Or do you see the man who could buy the firm you work for just to make sure you never have to work a weekend again?"
Elizien gasped for air. "You're Zayrius Tan. Not just a pilot for the logistics wing. You're the heir to the Tan Holdings."
He looked at her lips and then back at hers. "I am a man who likes the clarity of the cockpit because the world on the ground is full of people who only see the 'Tan' and never the man," he remarked. "But you... You looked at me like I was a nuisance from the second we met. You didn't care about the name. You only cared about the time."
With his thumb following the pounding pulse behind her jaw, he extended his hand and hovered it close to her face before settling his fingers against her neck. It was an electric contact. After years of putting in 80-hour work weeks, Elizien saw her professional determination start to disintegrate like salt in the rain.
"Aling Rosa said you would change your flight path for me," she said, her pulse pounding in her chest.
With his face inches from hers, Zayrius leaned in. Gone was the "grumpy" billionaire who detested interruptions. Someone who appeared to be seeing the sun for the first time after a long, gloomy winter took his place.
Whispering, "I didn't just change the path, Elizien," he warmed her with his breath. "I've already landed. And I have no intention of taking off again without you."
The two of them locked gazes. The reader had forewarned her about the look. It was the expression of a man asserting his dominance, not that of a pilot examining his instruments. The air between them was heavy with the smell of ozone and unfulfilled promises as the seconds stretched into a minute.
Elizien knew the audit was over in that long, steady glance. She was unable to determine Zayrius Tan's danger. Her heart's ledger was out of balance.
The world was absolutely, terrifyingly silent within the villa, but outside, the storm roared, threatening to tear the trees from the cliffs. Zayrius maintained eye contact. He allowed it to burn, revealing to her all the secrets, loneliness, and longing he had been concealing behind his frown.
Whispering, "Don't look away," he ordered.
"I can't," she admittedly said.
Elizien realized that Aling Rosa was correct when the lightning struck once more, creating their entwined shadows against the wall. It had taken off. She also became aware that she was no longer terrified of the turbulence as Zayrius stooped down to finally get closer to her.