Page 23 of Unleashed By Eden

“I’ll be there.”

Chapter eight

Violet

With my camera strapped around my neck, I swing my backpack over one shoulder and climb the narrow stairs into Pulse’s private jet.

“Welcome.” The hostess gives me a polished smile. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Of course there’s a hostess. This whole thing is stupidly surreal.

I step into the main cabin, and it’s already full. The band, the documentary crew, security—everyone half-buckled, settling in, getting ready for the eight-hour flight. I glance at my smartwatch.

Right on time.

So, naturally, everyone else decided to be early, just to fuck with me and make me feel late.

“Ah, I’m good, thanks.” I shake my head at the hostess.

Kai catches my eye and winks. Theo gives me a nod from where he’s sprawled across two seats. Xander lifts his hand in a small wave.

What the actual fuck?

I only met them briefly yesterday before the show, and now they’re greeting me like we’re old friends.

I spot Liam further down, phone pressed to his ear, brows slanted at his laptop screen as his fingers hammer the keys. Chris is beside him, shooting me a hard look before dropping his gaze back to his phone.

The rest of the PrimeTime+ crew are clustered toward the back of the cabin, already sliding into a little work bubble. I start heading that way.

“Hey, Vi, I saved you a seat.” Carter’s voice cuts across the low chatter of everyone settling in.

He’s at a four-seat table in the middle of the plane, a deck of cards spread in front of him, forearms braced on the glossy wood. He nods to the empty chair opposite him.

I hitch my backpack higher and glance at the PrimeTime+ crew again. I should sit with them. I don’t want to start shit by parking myself in front of the frontman.

“Everyone knows, Vi. Sit down.” He nods again to the seat.

I stalk over, catching the sharp stink eye Megan sends my way as she tracks me all the way to Carter’s table.

Fantastic.

I drop my backpack on the floor and sink into the ridiculously soft leather.

“What do you mean they know?” I whisper-shout.

“I don’t want to spend the next ten months pretending I don’t know you. It’s exhausting.” He shrugs.

“For fuck’s sake, Carter.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. That explains the band’s overly friendly greeting. “You could have asked me first. I didn’t want people to know we used to know each other, or that Liam is my brother. They’re going to think I got the job because I know you both. Did you think of that?”

“Who cares what they think?” He leans back a little, unbothered. “And no, they will not think that. I looked you up, Ms. Vega Wolfe.” His mouth curves. “You’re quite the photographer. According to Google, you’re one of the best photojournalists in the industry.” His eyes skim my face. “Well done.”

It’s weird, hearing it from him, hearing my alias coming from his mouth.

“Are you fucking with me?” I ask, suspicious out of habit.

“What? No.” Confusion skitters across his face. “I’m giving you a compliment. Jesus, take it, woman.”

We stare at each other, two stubborn idiots across a table, as the plane builds speed down the runway and lifts into the air.