Elegance with Expense

34. Cold as Ice

We had to go outside to board the jet, not that I had any problem, it was only the constant complaining of Gio that bothered me. I slapped a hand over his mouth as I walked next to him. It wasn't even that cold, if they found this cold, they would have a serious problem in London.

I couldn't see much, but I did see a light next to the nose of a plane. It wasn't as big as the plane that I arrived into New York on, but it was as big as the commercial plane that I saw on the other side of the tarmac. It was polished so well that anyone could see their reflection on the side. 

There was a carpet laid out before the stairs, which everyone walked across. I am fairly sure that my mouth was wide open the whole time I was walking along the blacktop. I was standing at the bottom of the staircase and there was a flight attendant dressed in an appropriate uniform, smiling, ready to greet us as we entered the plane.

'What the fuck.' I muttered as I began to climb the stairs, Gio stopped and turned around looking to me with an eyebrow raised.

'Don't look at me like that.' I rolled my eyes.

'Don't let anyone else hear you say that.' He warned. 

I made it onto the aircraft but was stopped by the young airhostess who had her hair slicked back into a tight bun. The door was lifted as she stared me down, not in a horrible way.

'I love your hair.' I flattered when she didn't speak.

'Girl, you don't understand how long it takes me to get it perfect.' She tossed her hand in a very feminine way.

'It looks flawless.' I spoke.

'You are so sweet; I'm surprised you're related to them.' She whispered, pointing into the separate cabin. I didn't know what to say about that, so I laughed it off.

I followed the way that I saw Gio go through and almost lost my breath when I saw what I walked into. It was a whole room, not a first-class cabin, it was a whole room. I noticed how they followed a certain theme when decorating, a Mediterranean style with light and beige colours. Everything looked picture-perfect, something you would expect to see when looking through a rich person magazine.

Everything was so clean, not a single stain in sight, not a single fault.

'Buoni dei della terra madre.' I said, looking up to the textured, glass ceiling. (Good gods of mother earth)

'Sit down, we need to take off.' Romeo said, not even looking to me.

I hesitantly took my place on the seat that Vincent directed my attention to, it was next to Marcus, opposite him and Michele, a table in between the four of us. I gaped at the intricate particularisation on the corners of the table, running my fingers over the gold patterns on the marble surfaces.

'I'm guessing you like the tables?' Marcus chuckled.

'I'm shocked.' Was all I could say. Before the plane began to taxi, my phone rang again, I was surprised that I was getting so many calls, specially so early in the morning.

It was Mr Romano who was calling me, so I quickly picked it up.

'Are you alright? Angelo told me that you were worried about Mr Berlusconi's files.' I said which got the attention of Marcus.

'Yes, I have the impression that a cyber attack is happening.' He rushed over the phone.

'Cyber attacks are quite normal, but I will check everything over and make the necessary changes.' I assured, as I put the phone down. I sighed and sat with my legs up on the seat, sitting cross legged as I reached down to get my backpack. I took out my laptop and placed it onto the table, putting in my passcode and opening my documents.