
Falling at 30,000 feets
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On Valentine's Day, love is in the air-but so is danger.
At 30,000 feet, trainee captain Jane Harley proves she's more than just a rising pilot when she navigates a terrifying turbulence that leaves passengers shaken and lives hanging by a thread. Calm under pressurej and fiercely capable, Jane becomes the unexpected hero of Flight 423.
But while she's saving lives in the sky, fate is already setting something far more complicated in motion.
Among the passengers is the powerful and ambitious mother of Jayden-Aurelia Air's largest shareholder-whose midair health crisis is only the beginning of a chain of events. Grateful and intrigued, she sets her sights on Jane... not just as a hero, but as a future daughter-in-law.
Jayden, a grounded pilot with a sharp mind and guarded heart, has no interest in his mother's schemes-until one unexpected name changes everything.
In a world of wealth, expectations, and high-altitude emotions, two lives are about to collide.
Love, ambition, and fate take flight in Falling at 30,000 Feet.
Falling at 30,000 feets Chapter 1
Aurelia Airlines Flight 423 roared to life, its silver and purple fuselage vibrating as it surged through the morning mist. Lifting gracefully into the sunrise, the aircraft sliced through the clouds like a hot knife through butter.
As the plane ascended into the endless blue, it carried the secrets and romances of Valentine's Day. In the cockpit, twenty-eight-year-old trainee captain Jane Harley sat poised, her steady, calloused fingers navigating the controls with practiced ease.She flipped the switch to engage the second engine, watching the gauges come to life with a quiet satisfaction that never quite faded, even after hundreds of flights. Bringing her aviation headset closer, adjusting the microphone with one finger, she spoke calmly into the mic, her voice carrying warmth and confidence that would put even the most nervous flyer at ease:
"Ladies and gentlemen , welcome aboard Aurelia Airlines Flight 423, traveling from Seattle to New York. On this Valentine's Day, we at Aurelia believe love should have no limits-so let love soar with us at 30,000 feet. Aurelia Airlines wishes you all a joyful Valentine's Day and a pleasant journey ahead. Please ensure your seatbelts are securely fastened while we reach our cruising altitude."
Smiles rippled through the cabin as couples held hands and exchanged tender glances. Some passengers gazed contentedly at the sky while others adjusted gifts and cards, their faces glowing with anticipation for the Valentine's Day celebrations ahead.
Then, without warning-
The aircraft jolted violently, dropping several hundred feet in what felt like the blink of an eye. A sudden shake rattled the fuselage, sending plastic cups tumbling from seatback pockets and magazines scattering across the floor.
Screams erupted-sharp, panicked cries that cut through the air like glass breaking.
The calm atmosphere shattered instantly as severe clear-air turbulence gripped the plane, tossing it like a toy in the hands of a giant. Overhead compartments rattled loudly, their latches straining against the force, and panic spread like wildfire through the cabin. Flight attendants rushed down the aisle, their voices firm yet soothing as they moved between rows, urging passengers to remain seated and keep their seatbelts fastened.
"Please remain calm! We are experiencing temporary turbulence-"
In the cockpit, Jane's focus sharpened to a razor's edge, her eyes never leaving the instruments as her hands moved with lightning speed. The young captain who had just wished everyone a happy Valentine's Day was gone, replaced by a commander trained to face any crisis.
"Fifteen degrees left," she commanded, her voice steady as rock despite the chaos unfolding behind the cockpit door. "Throttle back to seventy percent-maintain airspeed at two-fifty."
Her co-pilot, Marcus Chen-a seasoned flyer with twenty years of experience who had initially doubted the young trainee's abilities-moved quickly, his hands flying across the controls as he followed her instructions without hesitation.
"Turbulence zone extending twenty miles ahead on current heading," Marcus reported, his eyes scanning the radar screen. "Exit the turbulence zone first, then re-route to avoid the worst of it."
Jane gripped the control yoke, her knuckles white as she disengaged autopilot in one swift motion. The aircraft responded to her touch immediately, dipping slightly to the left before stabilizing as she guided it through the violent currents, her body moving with the plane as if they were one and the same. She'd trained for this-hundreds of hours in simulators, countless drills-but nothing could truly prepare you for the gut-wrenching feeling of being tossed around at 30,000 feet with hundreds of lives in your hands.
Seconds stretched like hours, each moment feeling like an eternity as the plane bucked and swayed. Jane's eyes never wavered, moving from gauge to gauge to window and back again, making small adjustments that kept them on course through the worst of it.
Then-
The shaking eased. The plane leveled out.
The clouds cleared to reveal endless blue sky once more.
The aircraft steadied, its engines humming smoothly as if nothing had ever happened.
A collective breath seemed to return to the world, a wave of relief washing through the cabin as passengers let out shaky sighs and whispered prayers of thanks.
Her co-pilot turned to her, his eyes filled with genuine admiration as he wiped sweat from his brow. "You handled that beautifully, Captain. Better than I would have at your age."
Jane exhaled slowly, allowing herself a brief moment of relief before her professional composure returned fully. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing loose strands back from her face. "We make a good team, Marcus. Now let's get everyone to New York safely."
In the cabin, Bill Washington-one of the most experienced flight attendants on Aurelia's roster, with silver hair and kind eyes that made passengers feel like family-tapped the earpiece in his left ear while pushing a stainless steel supply cart down the aisle. The cart's wheels rolled silently over the carpeted floor as he checked each row, ensuring passengers were settling back into calm.
"Captain Harley, supplies are ready at your request," he said quietly into his comm, his voice carrying the gentle authority of someone who'd seen it all. "Oxygen masks are secure, first aid kits are fully stocked, and we've got extra blankets ready. Though I doubt they'll be needed now that we're smooth again."
"Better safe than sorry, Bill," Jane's voice replied through the comm, clear and steady despite the recent ordeal. "And keep an extra eye on seat 1A-we have a passenger with a known heart condition traveling alone today."
"Understood, Captain. Already on it."
Bill nodded to himself and continued down the aisle, pausing to pat a young boy's shoulder reassuringly before stopping at the first-class section at the front of the plane.
In first class, a very different kind of turbulence was unfolding-one born of pride, greed, and the ancient tradition of arranged marriages.
Two elegantly dressed women sat facing each other across the wide aisle, their conversation anything but subtle as their voices carried easily in the now-quiet cabin. The woman on the left-Mrs. Eleanor Blackwood-wore a tailored navy pantsuit with pearls around her neck, her silver hair styled in an immaculate chignon that spoke of generations of wealth and influence. She held up a leather-bound profile file, sliding it across the tray table with a confident smile.
"See how exceptional my son Jayden is," she said proudly, tapping the file with her perfectly manicured fingernails. "Twenty-nine years old, Harvard MBA, and as I'm sure you know-he's the largest shareholder of Aurelia Air. Not just a figurehead, mind you-he flies as a captain when he's not managing the board."
The woman on the right-Mrs. Victoria Vanderbilt III-smiled thinly, her red lips stretching into an expression that was clearly unimpressed despite the expensive diamond earrings that dangled from her ears. She wore a fuchsia silk dress that cost more than most people made in a year, and her perfume-something heavy and floral-filled the air around them.
"My daughter Clarissa," she replied, lifting her chin with a haughty tilt, "is five feet six inches tall with diamond-like charm and a master's degree in luxury brand management. But if your son is under six foot three, don't even bother wasting my time. And the dowry-two million dollars, transferred to my account before the wedding date. A bargain, considering what my family brings to the table."
She leaned back in her plush leather seat, satisfied with her demands, then added casually as if mentioning the weather: "After marriage, she'll focus on building her social media brand and enjoy afternoon tea with her friends at the country club. Nothing stressful, of course-we wouldn't want her to overexert herself."
Jayden's mother-Eleanor-nodded quickly, forcing a smile despite the way her jaw tightened at the mention of two million dollars. "My son meets all those requirements, no problem... he's six foot four, as you can see in his photo." She hesitated, her hand moving to her wrist where a carved jade bracelet rested-green as spring grass, smooth as glass. "But two million-I can't transfer that immediately. The funds are tied up in investments, you understand. I only have this..." She slipped off the bracelet carefully, holding it out in her palm. "A family heirloom. Been in the Blackwood family for eight generations."
Before she could even finish speaking, Victoria snatched it from her hand, holding it up to the window light to examine it closely.
"Buy one, get two free," she said greedily, tucking the bracelet into her handbag without a second thought. "My daughter comes with two kids-twins from her previous marriage. Your son's getting a deal, really. Most men would balk at instant fatherhood."
Shock flashed across Eleanor's face-raw and genuine-as she stared at where her bracelet had just been. She lunged forward across the aisle, her hands reaching for Victoria's bag.
"Give that back-that's my family heirloom! You can't just take it!"
The two women struggled, their voices rising sharply as they pulled at the handbag, drawing stares from nearby passengers. Then suddenly-
Victoria shoved her back hard, and Eleanor's body hit the seat with a thud that echoed through the quiet cabin.
She collapsed against the leather, her hand clutching her chest as pain crossed her face. Her lipstick-perfect lips went pale, then blue around the edges, and her eyes widened with fear as she struggled to breathe.
Her face drained of color, leaving her looking ghostly against the dark leather seat.
Bill saw everything unfold from just a few feet away, and he didn't hesitate for a moment.
He abandoned his cart instantly, letting it roll to a stop against the wall as he rushed over, his training kicking in automatically.
"Ma'am! Are you okay? Talk to me-can you breathe?"
Eleanor's breathing was shallow, strained, each inhale sounding like she was pulling air through a straw. Bill could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead, the way her nails-usually so perfectly maintained-were digging into her own palm.
Without hesitation, Bill sprinted back to his supply cart, his long legs covering the distance quickly as he retrieved a small red case from the locked compartment. He returned quickly, opening the case with practiced ease to reveal a small bottle of nitroglycerin tablets and an oxygen mask.
"Try to relax... you'll be okay," he said calmly, helping her sit up slightly as he placed the oxygen mask over her face. He administered one tablet under her tongue, his movements gentle but efficient. "Just breathe slowly-follow my lead. In... and out... that's it."
After a few tense moments that felt like hours, her breathing began to ease, the color slowly returning to her face. She pulled off the oxygen mask weakly, her body relaxing against the seat as the worst of the pain passed.
"Young man..." she murmured faintly, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you know... I needed nitroglycerin? I didn't tell anyone..."
Bill smiled reassuringly, dabbing her forehead with a cool cloth from his pocket. "The captain. Captain Harley informed us before boarding-there was a passenger with a medical condition requiring attention. She reviewed every passenger's medical information before we even left the gate, and made sure we had the medication prepared in advance. She said to keep a special eye on you, ma'am."
"Harley..." she whispered, her eyes softening with something that looked like both gratitude and curiosity.
"Yes, ma'am. Now you need to rest. We'll be landing in about forty minutes, and we've already alerted medical services to meet us at the gate."
Bill stood, giving her one last reassuring glance before returning to his duties, stopping to give Victoria a look that made the woman shrink back in her seat before continuing his rounds.
News traveled fast in the aviation industry, and by the time the plane landed smoothly at JFK International Airport and medical teams took over caring for Eleanor, Jayden Blackwood had already been informed.
His expression darkened as he stood just outside the terminal in his crisp white pilot's uniform, the four gold stripes on his shoulders marking his rank as captain. His expensive watch-a Patek Philippe that had been his grandfather's-glinted under the overhead lights, subtle proof of his status that he usually tried to keep low-key. At six foot four, he cut an imposing figure, with dark hair that fell just slightly over his forehead and eyes the color of warm honey.
Beside him stood Michael Torres-his co-pilot, close friend since flight school, and the only person who could get away with teasing him about anything.
"How's my mother?" Jayden asked, his voice controlled but tense as he watched medical staff wheel his mother toward the ambulance.
"Stable," Michael replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "The paramedics say she'll be fine-just a panic attack triggered by the stress and the turbulence. Captain Harley consulted doctors beforehand and ensured nitroglycerin was onboard. Your mother got treatment in time-could have been a lot worse otherwise."
Jayden's jaw tightened slightly, his gaze following the ambulance as it pulled away from the curb. He'd known his mother was taking this flight, had even tried to get her to take a later one that he could pilot himself, but she'd insisted on traveling today.
"During your six-month grounding," Michael continued, adjusting his own uniform as he spoke, "just stay here. Spend time with her. The board already approved your leave-said it's well-deserved after everything you've done for the company this past year."
Jayden gave a small nod, his thoughts already elsewhere as he walked away from the terminal toward his car. A six-month grounding-standard procedure after any incident involving a family member traveling on your airline, even if he hadn't been the one piloting the flight. Part of him was relieved for the break; the other part was already missing the feel of the controls under his hands.
At the hospital, his mother lay resting in a private room on the fourteenth floor, the windows overlooking the city skyline. The afternoon sun streamed in, casting warm golden light across the crisp white sheets.
But she wasn't resting for long.
The moment the nurse left the room, Eleanor pulled out her phone from under her pillow and tapped quickly at the screen, searching for the name she'd heard on the plane.
Jane Harley.
A photo appeared instantly-official Aurelia Airlines headshot, but it captured her perfectly. Young. Composed. Beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled back, but there was a warmth in her brown eyes that made Eleanor smile. Below the photo were her credentials: trainee captain, top of her class at flight school, recipient of the Aurelia Excellence Award for safety procedures.
A slow smile spread across her face, deepening the lines around her eyes as she scrolled through more photos-Jane with her crew, Jane standing beside an aircraft, Jane laughing with passengers after a smooth landing.
"Such a lovely girl... attentive and kind-hearted..." she murmured to herself, tapping the screen to zoom in on Jane's face. "Imagine making her my daughter-in-law... she'd be perfect for Jayden-smart, capable, nothing like that Vanderbilt woman's daughter."
She stared out the window dreamily, already planning how to bring them together.
A knock sounded at the door-firm but polite.
She quickly hid the phone under her pillow and shut her eyes, letting out a soft cough as she pretended to be asleep.
Jayden entered quietly, carrying a bag from her favorite bakery and a fresh bouquet of peonies, but he'd been around his mother long enough to miss nothing. He noticed the slight bulge under her pillow, the way her breathing changed the moment he stepped inside.
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he set the bag and flowers on the bedside table.
His mother "woke" slowly, coughing weakly into her hand as she opened her eyes.
"Jayden... look at you. Almost thirty, and still no girlfriend... no prospects, no plans..."
She coughed again dramatically, reaching for the glass of water on her table.
Jayden leaned against the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her with an expression that was equal parts affection and amusement. He picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and a small knife, calmly beginning to peel it with practiced precision.
"The doctors said your bones are perfectly fine, Mom," he replied, his voice carrying just a hint of teasing. "Your heart's strong as an ox, and they cleared you to go home tomorrow. You'll be around for at least another decade-probably longer, knowing you."
She ignored him, reaching for his hand with her free one.
"A life without a daughter-in-law is incomplete... full of regret... I might just have to take up skydiving to feel alive again..."
Another exaggerated cough, followed by a theatrical sigh.
Jayden smirked slightly,
"Out with it," he said, sliding the plate of apple slices toward her. "Which lucky passenger caught your eye this time? "
Her eyes lit up instantly, all traces of feigned illness vanishing as she sat up straight in bed, pulling her pillow behind her for support.
"I've got my eyes on that captain," she said excitedly, leaning forward as if sharing a great secret. "Captain Jane Harley-
The knife in Jayden's hand stopped mid-peel, the blade hovering just above the apple as he looked up at his mother, his expression suddenly serious.
"...Who?"
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Falling at 30,000 feets of Contents
New Release Novels

8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.

7.2
Four years ago, Madelynn accepted money from Caiden's family and vanished. She thought it was for the best-he would remain the untouchable heir while she faced her tough life alone.
When they met again, Caiden humiliated her in public, yet appeared when she was cornered by a difficult client, pulling her back into his life.
He forced her to stay as his lover, using her mother's medical bills as leverage, whispering, "What you owe me... you'll repay the same way."
Madelynn believed he despised her. Only after the accident, when he ran toward her before the explosion, did she understand-he never let go.

7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."

9.8
Erica Murphy had spent three years rotting in a freezing prison cell.
She thought she was serving time for a tragic accident, but the truth was much darker. Her husband, Colten, had framed her for his mistress's drunk hit-and-run, stolen her fortune, and left her to take the fall.
The day Erica was finally released, a speeding car intentionally slammed into her, shattering her spine. As she lay dying on the emergency room table, flatlining on the monitor, Colten and his pregnant mistress didn't come to save her. Instead, they tossed a stack of divorce papers onto her bloody hospital blanket. They wanted her to sign away her last remaining shares and take on thirty million dollars of toxic corporate debt.
"Sign it," Colten demanded coldly, looking at her crushed body with utter disgust. "Consider this the last bit of dignity I'm giving you."
The original Erica died right there, suffocating in despair and betrayal, unable to understand how the man she loved could be so monstrous.
But when the flatline on the monitor suddenly spiked and her eyes snapped open, the traumatized victim was gone.
Replaced by the cold, calculating consciousness of a future special ops commander. With microscopic nanobots rapidly fusing her shattered bones together, Erica picked up the pen, preparing to burn Colten's entire empire to ashes.

9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.

7.2
Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years.
But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap.
They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal.
When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face.
The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago—how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé.
Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement.
"You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!"
Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic.
They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again.
She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night.
Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger.
"Are you single? Marry me right now."
She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.











