
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 21
⸻
Jane stopped.
Mid-step. Her hand was already on the doorknob, her fingers wrapped around the cool metal-but something made her pause. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, and she couldn't leave without one final word.
Her grip on her mother's hand tightened-firm, reassuring-then she turned back.
Slowly. Her movements deliberate, each step measured as she faced the table once more. The fire in her eyes hadn't faded, but now it was focused, controlled.
"And none of you will eat either," she said, her voice cutting through the room like a blade, sharp and clean. "This food was made with love-love you don't deserve."
She gestured to the spread on the table-her mother's signature chicken curry, homemade roti, fresh chutneys, all carefully prepared over hours.
The table fell silent. Even Lucia, who'd been so loud moments before, shrank back in her chair.
"Aunt," she added, her eyes locking onto Lucia with an intensity that made the older woman squirm.
Lucia stiffened under that gaze, her earlier boldness evaporating like mist in the sun. "You... you're free to say anything you like," she stammered, forcing a nervous laugh as she looked away. "But we are not free to listen."
Jane tilted her head slightly, her expression calm-but dangerous, like a pilot assessing a runway with hidden hazards.
"Right?" she asked, her tone carrying an edge that left no room for argument.
Lucia nodded quickly, her eyes darting toward the door. "Yes... yes. Of course."
Jane held her gaze for a second longer-making sure the message was clear-then turned away. Her hand found the doorknob again, turning it smoothly.
"Mom," she said gently this time, her voice softening as she looked at her mother's tear-streaked face, "let's go."
Her mother stood immediately, her back straight despite her trembling hands. She'd taken enough humiliation for one night.
Jayden rose as well, his expression dark and unreadable as he gathered their coats. He'd said nothing through the entire confrontation, but his jaw was tight with restrained anger-protective fury for the woman he'd come to care for, and her mother who'd been so cruelly treated.
Without another word-
The three of them walked out, the door clicking shut behind them with a final, decisive sound.
⸻
The door shut.
And just like that-
The room filled with noise again, as if a cork had been popped from a bottle of anger and resentment.
"Such an ungrateful, heartless child," Lucia snapped, pushing her chair back as she stood up, her face flushed with anger. She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the closed door.
"Throwing a tantrum like that in front of everyone," she added bitterly. "Who does she think she is?"
Rosa clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval as she picked up her glass of water. "Ill-mannered. Always losing her temper. No wonder she had to marry some nobody-who else would put up with her?"
"Aunt..." Jenny said softly, smiling as she leaned closer to Lucia, placing a comforting hand on her arm. She'd been quiet since Jane left, but now her sweet demeanor returned in full force.
"Jane has just been in the city too long," she continued sweetly, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "She's forgotten her roots-forgotten what family means."
She placed a hand on her chest, almost theatrically, her eyes wide with sincerity.
"Not like me. I would never treat you that way. Family always comes first."
Rosa beamed, reaching across the table to pat her daughter's hand. "Oh, my wonderful daughter," she said proudly. "So kind, so thoughtful. We're so lucky to have you."
Lucia scoffed, turning away from the door as she sat back down. "Fatherless child indeed," she muttered under her breath. "No manners whatsoever. No wonder her father ran away."
Her gaze softened as she turned to Jenny, her expression warm with approval.
"Our Jenny is the successful one," she said, nodding firmly. "Always has been. Always will be."
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Jenny... weren't you taking the captain exam last month?" she asked. "Did you pass? When do you get your bars?"
Rosa immediately turned, her expression tightening with anticipation. She'd been waiting to ask this question for weeks, but Jenny had always been evasive.
Jenny froze.
Just for a second. Her hand paused mid-air as she reached for her wine glass, her smile faltering just enough to be noticeable if you were looking for it.
Her fingers adjusted the strap on her shoulder bag-black leather, a gift from Reuben-buying precious seconds as she scrambled for an answer.
Then-
"I... of course I passed," she said quickly, forcing a bright smile as she picked up her glass and took a slow sip. "Got my results last week. They're assigning me to the LA route next month."
Rosa exhaled in relief, her shoulders slumping as she smiled proudly. "I knew it! My daughter-the youngest captain at Aurelia!"
Jenny forced a smile and added, her voice carrying just enough to be heard across the table, "Jane failed hers, obviously. She's always been too impulsive for such responsibility."
"Oh," Lucia nodded, satisfied as she picked up her fork again. "Figures. She never had the discipline for it."
The grandmother tapped Jenny's arm warmly with her wrinkled fingers, her eyes crinkling with pride. "I always knew you'd be the accomplished one," she said, her voice soft with affection. "So much better than your cousin Jane. More polished, more respectful."
Jenny's smile stiffened, her jaw tightening slightly. She'd lied about so many things-her exam results, her relationship with Reuben, her role at the airline-but hearing it praised like this made her stomach twist with guilt.
"Then," the grandmother continued eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement, "you can help Lucia's son get that flight attendant position, right? Pull those strings you mentioned earlier?"
Jenny hesitated.
Just a fraction. Her hand tightened around her wine glass, her knuckles white against the crystal.
But Rosa didn't notice. She leaned forward, her face glowing with pride.
"Of course!" she said proudly, pulling Jenny closer to her side. "Our Jenny is now a captain at a major airline-she knows everyone who matters. Arranging a little thing like a flight attendant job is nothing."
Jenny subtly shook her head at her mother-small, urgent movements that she hoped only Rosa would see. Stop. You don't know what you're saying.
But Rosa didn't notice. She was too busy basking in the attention, too proud of the daughter she'd always wanted.
"Arranging a few positions is nothing," she continued confidently, waving her hand dismissively. "She could probably get all of us jobs if she wanted to."
Jenny's throat tightened, her mouth going dry. She'd never even taken the captain exam-she'd been too afraid to face the failure she knew was coming. And Reuben had been grounded, so his connections were worthless now.
"From now on," Rosa added excitedly, her eyes bright with possibility, "you will all fly for free whenever you want. Jenny can get us complimentary tickets-captains have that kind of power, don't they?"
"Wonderful!" Lucia clapped her hands in delight, her face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning. "We've never even been on a plane! I've always wanted to see the ocean from above."
"Jenny," she added eagerly, leaning forward across the table, "can you take us to your airline tomorrow? For a tour? Let us see where you work-see the planes up close?"
Jenny's eyes widened. she certainly couldn't arrange a tour for half the family.
She immediately grabbed her mother's arm under the table, squeezing tightly enough to leave marks.
"Mom," she whispered through clenched teeth, her smile never leaving her face but her eyes dark with urgency, "stop making promises. I can't do that."
Rosa brushed her hand away, patting it reassuringly as she turned back to Lucia.
"Of course we can," she said brightly. "Let's say tomorrow afternoon-two o'clock. Jenny will pick us up and take us right onto the tarmac if we want."
Jenny's face drained of color. The tarmac was restricted access-only authorized personnel were allowed there, and even then, only with proper identification and training.
"That would be amazing!" Lucia and the grandmother exclaimed together, clapping happily as they began planning what they'd wear and what they'd ask to see.
Jenny leaned closer again, her voice urgent now, barely more than a whisper.
"Mom, that's impossible. Airport regulations forbid non-staff in operational areas. We could all get arrested-you could get me fired."
Rosa waved her off, her voice low but dismissive.
"Nonsense," she whispered back. "We're decent people. We won't touch anything. We'll just look around and be on our way."
She smiled wider, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"What could possibly happen? It's just a tour."
Jenny's lips parted-
Then closed. There was no point in arguing. Her mother never listened when she was in one of these moods, and saying no now would mean admitting she'd been lying about everything.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, fast and hard. She picked up her wine glass and drained it in one swallow, the alcohol burning a path down her throat.
Her forced smile returned.
But this time-
It didn't reach her eyes.
Because for the first time-
Her lies were no longer small, no longer easy to hide behind charm and excuses.
And tomorrow-
They would be tested.
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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