Chapter 14 Thank You

• Benedict’s POV
• The private jet smelled of new leather, Champagne, Sam's annoying cologne and coffee that had gone cold.
• Sam had been on the phone since we left the tarmac. His voice stayed low and smooth, the one he used when he wanted something without asking directly. I sat three seats away with a client on the line who should have been Sam’s problem. The man kept repeating the same demand in slightly different words, each version more entitled than the last. I answered in short, flat sentences and stared at the seat belt light until my jaw started to ache.