Falling at 30,000 feets
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.
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Chapter 13
Jayden's hand moved instantly-quick and precise, closing around Michael's forearm under the table. His fingers tightened until his knuckles blazed white, a silent warning that brooked no argument.
Michael froze mid-sentence, his smile faltering as he felt the pressure of his friend's grip. He'd pushed too far-he could tell by the way Jayden's jaw was set, by the sharp look in his eyes that he only reserved for serious situations.
Flashback - Jayden's Office
The afternoon light cast long shadows across Jayden's office, where stacks of flight reports and personnel files were neatly organized on his desk. Michael had collapsed onto the leather sofa, kicking his feet up on the coffee table despite the "no feet on furniture" plaque Jayden kept there.
"Wait-" Michael leaned forward, his eyes wide with sudden realization. "So Jane doesn't know you're Aurelia's heir? Or that you're ridiculously rich-like, 'own half the airport' rich?"
Jayden exhaled slowly, spinning his chair to face the window overlooking the tarmac. "I forgot to mention it," he said, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. "When we got married ... there hasn't been a right moment to sit down and explain everything."
Michael stared at him for a long moment-then slapped his knee dramatically, making Jayden flinch slightly.
"Disastrous," he declared, standing up and pacing the room. "Absolute disaster. If this leaks to the press? It'll look like a high-profile marriage scam. The whole 'mysterious heir marries unknown captain' story-people will dig into every detail of your relationship. They'll say she trapped you, that you used her for PR... and Jane doesn't deserve that kind of attention."
Jayden shot him a sharp look, his eyes darkening with frustration. "I know that. That's why I haven't said anything."
Michael immediately backed off with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Forget that part. But you have to be careful-
He leaned in again, lowering his voice to a serious whisper.
"For now, keep it hidden. Trust me on this. You need a private moment-just the two of you. Somewhere quiet where you can explain everything properly. Don't let her find out in public. That would be a disaster-for both of you."
Jayden pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a familiar headache building behind his eyes. "I can't hide it forever, Michael. She deserves to know who she's married to."
"You don't have to," Michael replied, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just... not here. Not like this."
Jayden hesitated-Then he nodded slowly.
"Alright."
Back at La Mer
Michael suddenly burst into laughter-loud and genuine, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the room. He threw his hands up in the air, his face splitting into a wide grin.
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" he said loudly, his voice carrying across the dining room. "Even if the Chief Pilot isn't here to join us-his wallet definitely is! Tonight's feast is on the company, so eat as much as you want!"
Laughter rippled through the room like a wave, the earlier tension dissolving instantly as pilots relaxed back into their seats. Plates clattered, glasses clinked, and conversations picked up again with renewed energy.
Reuben leaned back in his chair, exhaling in visible relief as he reached for his wine glass.
Jenny lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass until her knuckles turned white.
"Alright!" Michael clapped once, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Everyone dig in! The chef says the lobster bisque is to die for-and I've already tested it, so you know it's good!"
"Yay!" several captains cheered, reaching eagerly for serving dishes. Marco, the burly pilot who'd mentioned being a champion eater, immediately piled his plate high with grilled salmon and roasted vegetables.
"I won't hold back," he said eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. "Before I became a captain, I was a champion eater in college-won the state pizza-eating contest three years in a row!"
"Take it slow," Sophia teased, passing him a bowl of soup. "Last time you ate too fast, you got sick on a cross-country flight."
"Forget that," a third captain laughed, pouring himself a glass of white wine. "Tonight we enjoy! Who knows when we'll get a feast like this again?"
The room came alive again-warm, bustling, filled with the kind of camaraderie that only comes from shared experiences and mutual respect. Pilots who'd once been strangers now talked like old friends, passing dishes, sharing stories, and making plans for future flights.
Michael turned slightly-his eyes scanning the room until they found Jayden standing by the door, his expression calm but focused.
Caught Jayden's eye.
Jayden gave a small nod-a quick, almost imperceptible gesture. A quiet understanding passed between them: Thank you.
They moved together through the crowded room, Michael chatting casually with pilots as they passed while Jayden kept his eyes forward, his attention focused on Jane sitting at the far end of the table. She was watching the crowd with a soft smile, her hands folded in her lap as she listened to another captain tell a story about a particularly memorable flight.
They took the empty seats beside her-Michael sliding into the chair on her left, Jayden taking the seat on her right. The table was crowded, but there was something comfortable about the three of them sitting together-like pieces of a puzzle that had finally fallen into place.
Michael immediately launched into a story about a flight he'd taken last month to Alaska, gesturing wildly with his hands as he described the Northern Lights he'd seen from the cockpit. Jane laughed, her eyes lighting up as she asked questions about the route and the aircraft he'd been flying.
Jayden sat quietly beside her, his hand resting lightly on the back of her chair as he listened. He watched her face-how her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, how she leaned forward slightly when she was interested in something, how she unconsciously played with the edge of her napkin when she was thinking.
He'd never really taken the time to just look at her like this-really look at her. She was beautiful, yes-but more than that, she had a strength and warmth that drew people to her. He'd known it from the moment they'd met, but now it felt more real than ever.
Jane leaned slightly toward him, lowering her voice so only he could hear over the din of conversation.
"That scared me," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "When Michael was about to say who you were-I thought for a second you were the Chief Pilot."
Jayden widened his eyes in mock surprise, his lips twitching with amusement. "Oh? And is that such a terrible thing?"
"You don't like him?" he asked, his voice low and gentle, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of her chair in a small, comforting gesture.
"Not exactly," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I don't even know him-he's always been this mysterious figure at the top of the company. Everyone talks about him, but no one's ever met him. I just..."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the table as a waiter placed a large platter of grilled lobster in the center.
"Let's just eat," she said, her voice brightening as she looked at the food. "I'll tell you later why I was so startled. I've been craving seafood all week."
Her attention shifted immediately to the table, her eyes lighting up as she reached for a serving spoon.
"Seafood first," she said, pointing excitedly at the lobster platter. "That comes before everything else. I've been dreaming about this since lunch."
Jayden watched her for a moment-her face animated, her hands moving with excitement as she piled lobster onto her plate. A faint smile formed on his lips-the kind of soft, genuine expression he rarely showed to anyone but her.
Across the table-
Jenny watched too. Her grip tightened around her glass until her knuckles were white, her jaw set in a hard line. Jealousy flickered in her eyes-raw and unfiltered-as she saw the way Jayden looked at Jane, the way he leaned slightly closer when she spoke, the small, intimate gestures that spoke of familiarity and affection.
Then-
She spoke. Her voice was clear and sharp, cutting through the chatter like a knife.
"Jane," she said, her eyes fixed on the other woman.
The table quieted slightly, pilots pausing mid-conversation as they turned to look at her.
"It's only been a few days since you broke up with Reuben..."
A pause. She let the implication hang in the air, her eyes sliding slowly toward Jayden-taking in his crisp shirt, his expensive watch, the way he sat so close to Jane.
"...And you've already found a new boyfriend?"
The question landed with a thud. Several captains shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Jane's smile faded slightly, her hand pausing mid-air as she reached for her wine glass. She looked up at Jenny, her expression calm but her eyes darkening with irritation.
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9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."
7.8
My abusive ex was threatening a lawsuit that would destroy my father's career and wipe out my PhD. I was completely out of options.
That night, Graham, the boy from next door I hadn't seen in a decade, showed up at my apartment in the middle of a hurricane. Now a wealthy orthopedic surgeon, he offered a transactional marriage: he needed a local wife to keep his family away while he cared for his sick mother, and in return, he would make my ex disappear.
I thought it was a simple deal. But the morning after we signed the marriage license, Graham didn't just scare my ex off—he ruthlessly dismantled him. Then, Graham turned to me. His eyes were dead as he pulled out his phone, showing me a high-resolution photo of the night I illegally sold lab samples to pay off my ex's initial blackmail. He had hired a private investigator to stalk me. If that photo leaked to the FDA, I wouldn't just lose my degree; I'd go to prison.
"I needed a guarantee," he said flatly.
I was shaking with rage and terror. This wasn't a rescue. It was a hostage situation. Why did he hunt me down? Why use my darkest secret to trap me in this twisted marriage?
I couldn't live like this. I demanded an immediate divorce. But at the courthouse, the clerk dropped a bomb on us: state law required a mandatory thirty-day waiting period. Thirty days trapped with a ruthless, manipulative stranger. I had to find a way to break his leverage before the month was up.
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
9.2
After six brutal months, I returned to my Seattle villa, my sanctuary. An unsettling quiet, then a cloying mix of cheap vanilla and baby talc hit me. Pink slippers, a cookbook, and a blonde hair on Nathan's hoodie screamed betrayal.
Unwashed baby bottles and a note from "M" to "feed the baby" confirmed my dread. A baby's cry led me to Misty, holding a baby with Nathan's exact curls. She claimed Nathan called me his "bankrupt ex-wife," my clothes gone, wedding photos crumpled, and his loving text proved his calculated fraud.
Nathan burst in, spewing gaslighting lies, despite finding a deed transfer for *my* house. His blame—that I was a "cold work machine"—only solidified my resolve. My husband used my money, home, and trust to build a new life, systematically trying to erase me. He didn't just cheat; he tried to steal everything. A venture capitalist doesn't just walk away from a hostile takeover.
8.0
"Don't you dare touch me. You bloody monster," Eric whispered glaring at me, which only turned me on the more.
A beautiful smile crossed my lips; luckily for us, his fake mother was so focused on Katherine, she did not know I was fucking her son before her eyes.
"So I am now a monster, huh? That was not what you said yesterday. Or have you forgotten about our hot night?" I asked as I traced my way to his lap again, approaching his groin area.
He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming around. "Damien. I am Katherine's fiancé. your niece" He reminded me as my hands reached his groan, caressing it through the layers of his trousers.
"Yesterday you were Mike's boyfriend, and what did I tell you? I don't give a fuck!," I whispered back. "Now be quiet and try to control yourself" .
Eric's life is thrown upside down when his brother is killed on his coronation day, and he now has to become the king. and he can't because he is gay and he has a boyfriend who he loves dearly, or so he thought until he met Damien Monetro, his fiancée's uncle and his former one-night stand