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 34
From the far end of the tarmac, Jayden and Michael walked side by side, their pace unhurried-but their attention sharp as they scanned the surrounding activity. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the concrete, and the distant roar of engines filled the air as planes taxied toward runways.
Michael's gaze shifted first, his steps slowing slightly as he spotted movement near the crew building.
"...Look," he muttered, tilting his head slightly toward the scene ahead. "That's Norman-he's talking to Jane."
Jayden followed his line of sight, his jaw tightening the moment he saw them. Ahead, Norman was bowing repeatedly, his shoulders hunched, his posture desperate and almost pitiful. Jane stood before him, her back straight, her arms crossed over her chest-composed but clearly engaged in the conversation, her expression serious and focused.
Jayden's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, his fingers flexing at his sides. He watched closely-every movement, every shift in posture, every flicker of emotion across Jane's face. She held her ground, her feet planted firmly apart, her gaze steady as she listened to whatever Norman was saying.
Jane wasn't in danger.
She wasn't being cornered.
She was in control.
Only then did Jayden exhale quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
"Go handle that," he said under his breath, his voice low and urgent. "I can't risk exposure right now-"
Michael turned to him, incredulous. "Then why don't you do it yourself? She deserves to know the truth-"
Jayden shook his head, his gaze never leaving Jane. "She can't see me here again. She was already uneasy about me visiting you earlier-"
Michael stared at him, biting back a sharp complaint as he looked from Jayden's tense face to where Jane stood. He knew his friend well enough to understand that this wasn't about cowardice-it was about protecting Jane from more drama, more lies, at least until he could find the right way to tell her everything.
"...You-" he began, then sighed heavily. "Fine. But you owe me big time for this."
Before he could finish, Jayden shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him forward with a small, grateful nod. "I know. Now go-before he says something he shouldn't."
"Damn you," Michael muttered under his breath, straightening his jacket and adjusting his tie as he walked toward them, making sure his movements looked casual-as if he had just happened to be passing by.
"What do you mean-Captain Blackwood's wife?" Jane asked, her brows drawn together in confusion as she looked down at Norman. "Explain it clearly. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hey-what's going on here?"
Michael's voice cut in smoothly as he approached, his tone friendly but carrying an undercurrent of authority. He slid easily between Jane and Norman, putting himself between them as if by accident.
Norman turned instantly, his expression shifting from desperation to fear the moment he recognized Michael. His face paled even further, and he took a small step back.
"Norman Badwell," Michael called out, his tone turning sharp as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through something on the screen. "Who would've thought you've harassed over twenty female colleagues over the years? Flight attendants, ground crew, even new pilot trainees-all too scared to speak up because you threatened their careers."
Jane's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open in shock.
"...Twenty?" she repeated, her voice quiet but filled with anger. She looked from Michael's serious face to Norman's crumpled posture, disbelief warring with fury.
"Did you think Aurelia was your personal harem?" Michael continued coldly, his gaze fixed on Norman. "That you could touch and threaten whoever you wanted because you had family connections in the company?"
Jane shook her head in disbelief, anger flashing across her face as " i should've hit you harder"
Michael flicked her a brief side glance, his expression softening just for a moment before he returned to his composed, authoritative demeanor. "I've already contacted HR and legal," he said to her. "They're compiling all the reports now-he'll never work in aviation again, anywhere in the country."
Jane hesitated for a moment, her thoughts still tangled as she looked at Norman-
Twenty victims...
Captain Blackwood's wife...
...Must be a mistake, she murmured inwardly, pushing the thought away. Jayden was unemployed-he'd told her so himself.
"...Alright," she said finally, nodding to Michael. "Thank you for handling this. I'll leave it in your hands."
She cast one last sharp look at Norman-her eyes cold and unforgiving-before turning and walking away, her steps steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts in her head.
Norman remained kneeling on the rough tarmac, trembling as he watched Jane disappear toward the crew building. Slowly, he looked up at Michael, his face streaked with tears and dirt.
But Michael said nothing. He simply looked down at him, his expression unreadable-neither angry nor sympathetic, simply observing.
Then-
A presence moved behind him. Quiet, deliberate steps that barely made a sound on the concrete.
By the time Norman sensed it, it was too late.
Jayden stepped forward and grabbed Norman by the collar, yanking him up with sudden force. The fabric of his shirt strained under Jayden's grip, and Norman gasped, his eyes widening in terror as he met Jayden's gaze.
There was no warmth there. No mercy. Only cold, focused fury that made Norman's blood run cold.
"If I ever see you near Aurelia again," Jayden said, his voice low and deadly, each word enunciated clearly, "or anywhere near her-at the airport, in the city, even on the same street-"
His grip tightened, making Norman choke slightly.
"Losing your job will be the least of your worries. I'll make sure you never work in any industry again. I'll make sure your name is blacklisted everywhere. Do you understand me?"
Norman's lips trembled, his eyes wide with pure fear as recognition finally dawned on his face. "Y-you're-Captain Blackwood...?"
Jayden didn't answer. He just stared at him for a long moment, letting the weight of his words sink in.
Then he shoved him back hard.
"Get lost."
Norman stumbled backward, barely catching himself against a nearby equipment cart.
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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