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 35
Norman scrambled away in panic, his shoes slipping on the smooth concrete as he nearly tripped over his own feet. He didn't look back once as he fled around the corner of the maintenance hangar, disappearing from sight in seconds.
Michael watched him go, then folded his arms across his chest with a satisfied grin. "Now that's the Jayden I know," he said, nodding approvingly. "Strict. Fair. Cold as an iceberg." He demonstrated with his fingers, sketching an imaginary block of ice in the air with exaggerated movements.
Jayden rolled his eyes, exhaling slowly as the last of the anger he'd been holding in dissipated. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead as he glanced toward the crew building-hoping Jane hadn't noticed him.
"The one in front of Jane..." Michael continued, shaking his head dramatically as he mimicked a soft, gentle expression. "That version of you? Embarrassing. Like watching a lion pretend to be a house cat."
Jayden glanced at his wristwatch-gold and sleek, a stark contrast to the "unemployed" persona he'd been maintaining. "Five minutes left until your meeting with the operations team," he said calmly, though his eyes glinted with mischief. "You're going to be late. I'll report it honestly-and dock your performance score. Maybe even recommend you for retraining."
He shot Michael a look that balanced perfectly between serious and teasing, making Michael's eyes widen in mock horror.
"Oh no, Jayden... you're really burning bridges now?" Michael protested, clutching his chest dramatically. "After I've covered for you so many times?"
"Let me help you, Mr. Torres-"
A voice cut in sharply, making both men freeze.
Jane appeared from behind Michael, gripping a thick wooden stick she'd grabbed from a nearby equipment rack-clearly ready to strike, assuming he was still dealing with Norman. Her hair was slightly windswept, her uniform jacket unbuttoned, her expression fierce and protective.
She raised the stick high-
-and froze mid-motion.
Her eyes landed on Jayden, standing just a few feet away. The stick slowly lowered, her grip loosening as confusion washed over her face.
"...Jayden?" she said, her voice quiet and confused. Her gaze moved between the two men-from Jayden's calm but slightly tense face to Michael's wide-eyed expression. "What are you doing here?"
Jayden stiffened. For once in his life, he had no immediate answer ready. His mind raced through a dozen possible lies, but none of them felt convincing enough. His eyes darted briefly, avoiding hers-
Then suddenly, he turned and smacked Michael's arm hard enough to make him yelp.
"Ow! What the-"
"He asked me to come find him," Jayden said quickly, his voice carrying just enough to sound concerned.
Michael stared at him in disbelief, rubbing his arm as he looked from Jayden's urgent face to Jane's questioning eyes. He could see the silent plea in Jayden's gaze-and knew he had no choice but to play along.
"...Fine," Michael said through clenched teeth, forcing a smile as he turned to Jane. "I... uh... was too scared to go to work alone."
"So I asked him to come get me," Michael continued weakly, scrambling for a better excuse. "Walk with me to my office-you know, for moral support"
Jane blinked, her confusion deepening as she looked between them. "Huh? You're scared?"
Jayden squeezed his shoulder subtly-a silent warning to make it more convincing.
"Actually-" Michael corrected himself quickly, wincing as Jayden's grip tightened. "He came here to apply for a security job. Asked me to help him with the application process."
This time, Jayden turned to him in genuine shock-he'd never mentioned anything about a security job. But he quickly masked it, nodding along as if this had been the plan all along.
Jane crossed her arms, giving Jayden a long, knowing look that made his stomach twist with guilt.
"Oh... really?" she said, her voice light but her eyes sharp as she studied him.
Jayden swallowed hard, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "...That's right. But opportunities are scarce right now. Thought I'd keep busy-maybe learn some new skills."
A few minutes later-
Michael stood with his phone held up like a professional camera, taking "professional" photos of Jayden for his supposed job application. He'd positioned him in front of a plain wall near the security office, adjusting his posture with exaggerated care.
"Stand up straight-no, straighter," Michael instructed, squinting at the screen. "Look serious. Like you mean business."
Jayden stood stiffly, his shoulders squared, his expression flat and unamused. He looked like a statue of a security guard-polite but completely lifeless.
Jane lingered nearby, watching with a small smile playing at her lips. She could tell Jayden was uncomfortable, but she appreciated that he was trying to find work-.
She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her. "Mr. Torres," she began, a bit hesitant as she addressed Michael. "About what happened last time...I'm sorry. I misunderstood you. I thought you were part of the problem, but it seems like you've been trying to help all along."
Michael didn't look up, still focused on editing the photos to make them look more "professional." "It's fine," he said casually, though his tone was warmer now. "Think of it as clearing the air. Misunderstandings happen-"
He glanced at Jayden out of the corner of his eye, making Jayden shift uncomfortably.
"And," he added, glancing at her with exaggerated seriousness, "I should be thanking you. If not for this whole job stuff, I'd never get to see Jayden like this."
Jayden shot him a warning look, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Ah-" Jane reacted, slightly confused as she looked from Michael to Jayden.
Michael quickly waved it off, tapping his phone screen. "What I mean is... you know how stubborn he is. He'd rather suffer in silence than let his best friend help. You've given him a reason to reach out-"
Jane turned to Jayden, her expression softening with understanding. She reached out and squeezed his arm lightly.
Michael sniffed dramatically, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve. "I really feel for him."
Then he turned back to Jane, his expression brightening. "So thank you-for convincing him to take the job. it'll be good for him to stay busy."
"It's nothing," Jane said sincerely, her eyes warm as she looked at Jayden. "Next time you need anything-just come to me directly. I'll do what I can."
"Deal," Michael replied, patting her shoulder lightly. "I won't be polite about it either-you'll be hearing from me often."
He then turned to Jayden, tossing him a set of car keys"Hey, Jayden-remember to park the car properly later. No double-parking near the terminals, okay? Security has been cracking down."
Jayden caught the keys, stunned... But he quickly masked his surprise, nodding respectfully.
"...Got it, Mr. Torres," he said, bowing slightly-playing the part of a humble security perfectly.
Michael bit his lip, barely holding in his laughter as he turned and walked off, calling over his shoulder,
Jayden watched him leave, his eyes narrowing slightly as he muttered under his breath.
Just you wait... I'll make you pay for this.
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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