NEXT STOP, ALDERAN...PLUS ONE!

ORION.

As the plane hummed steadily through the sky, Captain Jameson adjusted his headset, the rich, comforting hum of the engines a familiar backdrop to his routine. He glanced one last time at the controls before turning to face the cabin, his expression firm but welcoming.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into Alderan, and I'll have you on the ground shortly. I would like to extend a special welcome to Mr. Hanrich Sebastian Bishop Jr., my esteemed boss, and his companion, Mr. Orion Alexander Stone. It's a privilege to have you both aboard, Sirs."

"Mr. Bishop, your leadership has inspired not just our team but also the broader community we serve. I salute your vision and dedication, and Mr. Stone, thank you for accompanying Mr. Bishop today; it's clear that your support fuels his ambition and passion. And a warm hello to Miss. Azalea, who brings an admirable spirit to our group."

"As we soar through these final moments before landing, I want to express my gratitude to all of you for choosing us as your carrier. We take pride in ensuring your journey is as comfortable and safe as possible. We will be landing shortly, so please ensure your seatbelts are securely fastened, and all electronic devices are appropriately stowed in preparation for our arrival. Thank you, and welcome back to Alderan."

Captain Jamison tipped his hat respectfully, a small, enigmatic smile touching his lips as he returned to the cockpit. The cabin was filled with relaxed anticipation for the homecoming.

Azalea stretched her slender legs out of the posh private airplane seat, letting out a groan as she cracked her knuckles and arched her back. "Thank God we're finally here!" she exclaimed, turning to us with a mock scowl.

"I know you two are boyfriends now and all, but can't you stop sucking each other's face for a minute? You're making me jealous," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. I chuckled at her dramatics.

Harro smirked, sticking his tongue out at her playfully. "No, I can't! There are other seats at the back; you didn't have to sit beside us." Azalea's scowl deepened, and she glared at her cousin, giving him the middle finger.

As I observed their banter, I couldn't help but recall Azalea's sudden decision to join us on our journey. She had packed her bags in haste and jumped into the car, announcing her intention to return to Alderan with us. Her choice of destination intrigued me - why Alderan, of all places? Weren't she upset with him about his refusal to share me with her still?

Alderan, a home to us and many others is indeed a stunning country, boasting breathtaking landscapes and rugged coastlines. As an island nation nestled in the North Atlantic, approximately 500 kilometers east of Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada, its unique charm and natural beauty makes it a captivating destination to tourists.

Harro's reaction to Azalea's impulsive decision had been very normal, just like his smiling grandmother waving goodbye at us. With a casual shrug, he slipped into the car, leaving her to her own devices. His demeanor suggested a familiarity with her impulsive nature, as if he'd grown accustomed to her spontaneous decisions over the years.

Harro gazed at me, his eyes filled with affection. "What's the remainder of your day going to be like, baby?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. My heart skipped a beat as I smiled back at him, feeling a tingling sensation in my stomach. He'd taken to calling me sweet pet names, and "Baby" was one of them. I'm a thirty-year-old man with a team of people relying on me, for God's sake! I should feel in control, but when he calls me "baby," it sends a jolt through me that I can't ignore.

"I'm going to get home and try to get some rest..." I began, but he cut me off mid-sentence, his eyes sparkling with hope.

"Can I come home with you?" he asked, his voice laced with longing. I chuckled and shook my head, earning a pout from him.

"Then, I'm going to have dinner with my father and his wife later," I explained, gently brushing his hair away from his eyes. "That's why you can't come home with me."

Harro nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Your hair has grown longer," I observed, my fingers lingering in his white locks. He nodded again, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I'll get a haircut tomorrow. I have to go back to work on Monday" Harro said, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. The mere mention of work seemed to evoke a groan from him, and I couldn't help but laugh at his adorable expression.

It was almost comical that he's reluctant about going back to work, considering he was the boss and had more than enough wealth to never lift a finger again. Yet, he chose to continue working, seemingly for the sheer enjoyment of it.

As we stepped off the airplane some minutes later, Harro intertwined his fingers with mine, his bright smile illuminating his face. The noticeable difference in our height only added to the endearing quality of the gesture.

Though I wasn't publicly out as gay and I don't even know if I am, and the fact that our relationship was still blossoming, I allowed him to hold my hand, finding comfort in the private section of the airport.

"You didn't have to call Lee to come pick you up," He said, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. "I would have taken you home." I shook my head, watching as my luggage was loaded into the back of my sleek black Jeep.

"I didn't want to stress you," I replied, I know he must be tired from the flight. "You need to get home and rest too." We paused in front of the Jeep, our conversation momentarily halted.

"I don't mind," Harro said with a cheeky grin. "It would've given me more time with you." His whispered words sent a flutter through my chest.

Just then, my bodyguard's voice cut through our intimate moment. "Good to have you back, boss. Mr. Bishop," he said, directing a polite nod to Harro.

Harro whispered in my ear, "He still doesn't like me," his expression playfully sour. I chuckled and bid him farewell before settling into the car seat as Lee drove us out of the airport. I closed my eyes, letting the soothing motion of the vehicle lull me into relaxation.

After arriving home, I managed to squeeze in an hour or so of sleep, followed by some much-needed alone time. I spent a portion of that time talking with Harro over the phone, his warm voice a comforting respite.

However, my tranquility was short-lived, as the appointed hour for dinner with my father loomed near. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unese; he rarely initiated family gatherings, so I suspected his wife, my stepmother, was behind this arrangement.

My suspicions proved correct as I entered the private room of the upscale restaurant. Seated around the table were my father, his wife, and their son - my half-brother. The atmosphere felt forced, and I could sense the underlying tension.

"Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Orion," my father said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He forced a smile, but I saw right through it. I took my seat opposite him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

We exchanged insincere pleasantries as we ordered our food, the tension at the table was very obvious. My father's wife, ever the social climber, attempted to make small talk, but her efforts only made me feel more suffocated. Her words were laced with superficial sweetness, but I could sense the underlying insincerity.

My father's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he asked, "So, what was so important that you jetted off to Germany for an entire week?" I met his inquiry with a curt, "Work," deliberately omitting any further explanation. His face darkened, and he muttered a low curse under his breath.

I knew he seethed at the lack of control he had over my life, and I took pleasure in reminding him of that fact. His wife, sensing the tension, attempted to intervene with a saccharine smile plastered on her face.

"Your work on the merger was simply wonderful, Orion," she cooed in her grating, high-pitched voice. "Everyone is abuzz about the new drug." I acknowledged her comment with a brief, polite nod before returning my attention to my meal.

Undeterred by my lukewarm response, she continued to beam at me with a fake smile, her eyes glinting with a hint of annoyance. The air was thick with unspoken tension, and I could sense the strain of maintaining her artificial demeanor.

"I wish your brother could become like you one day," she continued, her voice dripping with insincerity. Her son rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the comparison. I maintained a neutral expression, careful not to reveal my true feelings about her referring to her son as my brother.

"You're graduating in a couple of months; you should start behaving like a proper adult," she chastised, turning her attention to her son. My father hummed in agreement, while her son muttered a few words of protest.

I continued savoring my steak, deliberately tuning out the conversation. By shutting them out, I hoped to hasten the end of this excruciating dinner. The less I engaged, the sooner it would be over.

"Yes, your mother is right," my father said, his voice firm but patronizing. "You can even come around my office once in a while, and I'll start teaching you the ropes." His son continued to protest, clearly unenthused about the prospect of working.

His mother's eyes sparkled with excitement as she squealed loudly, as if she'd just made a groundbreaking discovery. She turned to me, a saccharine smile plastered on her face.

"I just got a brilliant idea, why don't you let him work with you, Orion?" She asked her voice dripping with seriousness.

My blood boiled at her suggestion, and I slammed my fork onto the table, the loud clang making her emit a high-pitched squeak. Her son's eyes widened in alarm, while my father's expression transformed from calm to surprised.

I took a deep breath, swallowing the piece of steak in my mouth, and followed it with a sip of water. Composing myself, I stood up, smoothing my suit, and picked up my cell phone and jacket. I surveyed the room, meeting the shocked gazes of my family.

My eyes locked onto my father's, and I delivered a curt, "Dinner was great, thanks for inviting me." With that, I turned on my heel and made my way out of the private room, leaving the stunned silence behind.

As I walked away, I caught the frantic tone of my father's wife, asking if she'd said something wrong. I ignored her inquiry, not bothering to look back. Instead, I stepped into the elevator and exited the restaurant, the cool evening air a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere I'd just escaped.

I slid into my car, and my bodyguard, sensing my mood, didn't ask questions. "Drive," I instructed, and he obliged, pulling away from the curb as I leaned back, trying to shake off the lingering tension.