RONAN'S POV
As soon as my flight touched down in California, the assigned driver approached and politely took charge of my luggage. He efficiently opened the door to a sleek black Mercedes, his movements practiced and smooth.
"Welcome, Sir. I trust you had a safe flight?" he asked, his tone professional as he navigated the car through the airport traffic.
"Yes, I did," I responded, barely glancing up from my phone. My mind was elsewhere—specifically on Liora. If she didn’t message me, it would mean one thing: she regretted what happened. I’d have no choice but to let it go, act like nothing had transpired between us, and move on. The mere thought stirred an unsettling knot in my chest, but I dismissed it as I focused on the phone screen, waiting for any notification that would contradict my fears.
"We’ve arrived, Sir. This is the hotel that’s been arranged for you," the driver announced as he smoothly pulled into the parking lot, cutting through my thoughts.