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 39
At the Blackwood Estate, the atmosphere was deceptively calm. The grand foyer gleamed with polished marble floors and crystal chandeliers that caught the morning light, casting rainbows across the walls lined with framed aviation memorabilia. In the sunlit sitting room, plush cream sofas and armchairs were arranged around a dark wood coffee table, where a silver tea set sat gleaming.
Mandy sat gracefully on one of the cushions, her posture elegant and practiced-back straight, shoulders relaxed, legs crossed neatly at the ankle. She wore a tailored cream dress that flowed to her knees, her dark hair styled in loose waves that framed her face perfectly. Across from her, Eleanor-Jayden's mother-carefully set down a cup of freshly brewed coffee on a delicate saucer before taking a seat beside her, a polite but slightly strained smile resting on her lips.
"You don't have to be so polite, Madam," Mandy said warmly, reaching out to take Eleanor's hands in hers. Her grip was tight-almost possessive-as she squeezed gently. "We're almost family now."
Eleanor's smile faltered-just slightly-as she tried to pull her hands away subtly. "Mandy..." she began cautiously, her voice soft but measured. "I mentioned to your mother the last time we spoke that... the marriage arrangement between our families has been cancelled."
For a brief moment, Mandy said nothing. Her expression remained perfectly composed, but her fingers tightened around Eleanor's hands until her knuckles turned white.
Then-
Her hand "accidentally" tilted, knocking against the coffee cup beside her. The ceramic slipped from its saucer, hot black coffee spilling across the polished wood table in a dark, spreading stain.
"Oh my God!" Mandy exclaimed quickly, rising halfway from her seat, her eyes wide with feigned alarm. "I'm so sorry-I'm so clumsy today! I'll clean it up right away-"
Eleanor reached out immediately, gently holding her hands to stop her. "No, no-don't worry about it," she said softly, guiding her to sit back down. "The staff will take care of it. Mandy... I heard from your mother that you went abroad for treatment. How is your condition now? Is it any better?"
Mandy's expression dimmed slightly, a shadow passing across her face. She released Eleanor's hands, folding her own in her lap. "It's still the same," she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The doctors say there's only so much they can do-some things just take time."
Then, as if remembering something pleasant, her face brightened again, and she looked up at Eleanor with a warm smile. "But Jayden took very good care of me while I was overseas," she added lightly, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "He called every week, sent me care packages... so you don't need to worry about me."
Eleanor's brows knitted together-confusion flickering across her face as she searched Mandy's eyes. "I... wasn't aware you and Jayden were that close. He never mentioned keeping in touch while you were away."
Mandy's smile stiffened, the corners of her lips twitching slightly. For a split second-just long enough for Eleanor to notice-her eyes shifted away, darting toward the window as if nervous.
Before she could respond-
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the moment. Gravel crunched under tires, followed by the soft thud of a door closing.
Mandy's face lit up instantly, her earlier discomfort vanishing completely. "Is Jayden back?" she asked, already rising to her feet, excitement clear in her voice as she smoothed down her dress.
Eleanor forced a small smile-but the moment Mandy turned away, that smile vanished completely, replaced with visible tension. She pressed her fingers to her temples, letting out a quiet sigh.
Mandy walked briskly toward the door, her steps light and eager. Just as she reached it-her hand on the polished brass handle-
The door opened from the outside.
Jayden stepped in, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his tie slightly loosened from a long morning of meetings. He paused when he saw Mandy, his expression remaining neutral.
"Oh, Jayden!" Mandy said, her tone turning soft and slightly pouty as she stepped closer to him. "Why did you come back without telling me? You didn't even inform me you were coming"
Jayden barely spared her a glance as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door. One hand slipped into his pocket, his expression calm-detached, almost cold.
"Miss Moore," he said coolly, finally turning to look at her. His dark eyes held no warmth, only a clear sense of distance. "We are not familiar enough for me to keep you informed of my movements."
The words landed heavily in the quiet foyer. Mandy's smile wavered, but she pressed on, as if she hadn't heard him.
"My mom asked me to check with you," she continued, her voice bright again despite the slight edge to it. "When would be a good day for our wedding? She's already looking at venues-there's a beautiful church just outside the city that's perfect for a spring ceremony."
Behind her, Eleanor turned away, walking toward the sitting room as she twisted her fingers together nervously. She didn't want to be part of this conversation-not again.
"I am already married," Jayden said flatly, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he met Mandy's eyes directly. "I told your parents this months ago, and I've made it clear to you as well. Continuing this conversation will only cause unnecessary trouble for both families."
Mandy's smile vanished.
Completely.
Her face hardened, her jaw tightening as she stared at him. Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. Then, slowly, she turned to face Eleanor, who had paused by the doorway, watching anxiously.
Her expression-no longer sweet or playful. Now edged with frustration and something that looked almost like anger.
"Madam..." she began, her voice low and steady.
Eleanor quickly stood up, forcing a smile as she stepped toward her, cutting her off. "Mandy," she said gently, taking Mandy's hands again-this time with a firmer grip. "You are a wonderful young woman, and your family means so much to us. You will definitely meet someone better-someone who can give you the life you deserve."
She even reached up, lightly tapping Mandy's nose in a playful gesture-trying to ease the tension, to smooth over the awkwardness.
Mandy let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"My mom is still waiting for me," she added, withdrawing her hands and stepping back toward the door. "I should go."
She turned, her movements stiff as she walked toward the entrance. Jayden stood still, watching her go, his expression unreadable.
Then-
Through the tall glass window beside the entrance-
He saw her.
Jane.
Walking up the long, luxurious path toward the estate, the morning sun illuminating her dark hair. She carried a thick file in one hand, her head held high as she made her way up the stone steps, completely unaware of what awaited her inside. She'd clearly come straight from work-still in her pilot uniform, her cap tucked into her pocket.
Jayden's eyes widened.
For the first time-
Real panic flickered across his face.
No-
As Mandy moved to pass him, reaching for the door handle-
He reached out suddenly and grabbed her arm, his grip firm enough to stop her but not to hurt her.
"Wait."
His voice was firm-unusual for him, carrying a note of urgency he rarely showed.
Mandy froze, startled, turning back to look at him with wide eyes.
Jayden's gaze remained fixed on the approaching figure outside, his jaw tight with worry.
"No..." he said under his breath, his fingers tightening slightly on her arm.
Then, more clearly-
"You can't leave yet."
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9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
7.3
Ten years ago, I was banished from my pack, branded a whore and a traitor for allegedly drugging and stealing my sister's fated mate.
Now, I was summoned back because my father, the Alpha who disowned me, was dying from a poisoned attack.
Standing by his deathbed, a locked memory finally surfaced—I didn't drug anyone. My husband and I were both victims, poisoned with wolfsbane to force our mating.
But before my father could reveal who orchestrated the setup, his heart monitor flatlined.
My brother instantly shoved me to the ground, pointing a trembling finger at my face.
"You killed him. I will hunt you, I will break you, and I will make your life a living hell."
Even my husband, Kieran, the man I was forced to marry to save our unborn child, walked right past me in the hospital corridor.
He didn't spare me a single glance, choosing instead to gently comfort my mother while I sat bruised and shattered on the cold floor.
I didn't understand why my own family hated me so blindly, and I understood even less who had framed me a decade ago.
What terrified my father so much in his final moments that he couldn't even speak the culprit's name?
Watching my cold husband walk away with the family that abandoned me, the last shred of my naive hope died.
I wiped my tears and stood up. This time, I was going to tear this pack apart to find the truth.
9.3
My husband Hudson had kept me a medicated ghost for three years, convinced I was unstable. But a cheap pink hair clip, tangled with golden blonde hair in his car, ripped through the chemical haze. The bitter pill he forced me to take wouldn't numb the burning truth, only fuel my awakening.
I was an architect once, but now I was just Cora, a docile wife trapped in his suffocating world. When he saw my shock, his concern was sickeningly sweet as he offered another Xanax. I pretended to swallow the poison, letting it dissolve under my tongue, a constant reminder of my awakening.
Back at the mansion, his massive car deliberately blocked mine, a crude barricade confirming his control. Then, a message from an old intern confirmed my darkest fears: this was domestic abuse. He urged me to check Hudson’s closet, to record everything.
I knew then I was living with a dangerous monster, and my denial shattered. The anger burned, fueled by the bitter taste of that undissolved pill.
That night, Hudson walked in, wearing a hideous, sloppily tied red polka-dot tie. It was a clear, undeniable sign of another woman. My architect’s mind was awake, cold and calculating. "Game on, Hudson." I would make him taste this bitterness back a thousand times.
9.3
Candice Luna thought her marriage to Julius Hansen was a lifeline to save her father's struggling company.
She didn't know it was a death sentence until Julius coldly slid divorce papers across his mahogany desk.
His true love, Amina Rowe, was nestled in his arms with a triumphant, mocking smile. The "merger" Julius promised had been a brutal, hostile takeover designed to bleed the Luna Group dry from the inside. Bankrupted and utterly broken, Candice's father stepped off the roof of their corporate tower. Meanwhile, Candice was publicly humiliated, stripped of her dignity, and mocked by all of Wall Street as a discarded stepping stone.
She died in a car accident, her final moments consumed by an agonizing, feral scream. She hated herself for letting her blind devotion destroy the father who had always believed in her.
But when Candice opened her eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room, she realized she wasn't dead.
She was twenty-two again. Three years before the wedding. Three years before her father's suicide.
When Julius's assistant walked in holding a bouquet of blue roses to discuss the preliminary merger, he expected a docile, desperate heiress.
Instead, Candice grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and flung it directly into his smug face.
"Tell Julius Hansen to never, ever send his dogs to my door again."
This time, there would be no engagement. This time, the Hansen family would choke on her family's legacy.
7.0
I was the Stanton family heiress, engaged to the President's son to secure a vital military alliance.
But he cornered me in the White House sitting room, slamming a thick manila folder onto the marble table.
"I said, sign the annulment agreement, Hester."
He looked at me like I was dirt, demanding I step aside so he could be with a manipulative intern named Tricia.
In my past life, I was a naive lamb. I cried and begged him not to end it. My devotion was rewarded with absolute cruelty. He ordered my bones broken and my reputation completely shredded. My trusted assistant forced poison down my throat, and I was left to die with a rope burning my neck.
Until my last breath, I didn't understand. I had done everything perfectly for the family. Why did my unwavering loyalty only bring me a gruesome death? Why did the monsters who tortured me get to live happily in the highest seats of power?
Opening my eyes again, the suffocating terror of the noose suddenly washed away. I was sixteen again, staring at the exact same annulment papers.
"Hester, please. Just let us be happy," Tricia whimpered, reaching out her trembling hand.
This time, I didn't cry. I picked up the solid gold fountain pen, stabbed it violently through the center of the contract, and prepared to drag the entire First Family straight to hell.
9.3
My husband of three years dragged me into the freezing autumn ocean because my stepsister claimed I bullied her.
When she faked a sprained ankle in the shallow water, he immediately abandoned me in the roaring waves to save her, not knowing I was eight weeks pregnant.
The icy undertow swept me away, causing a brutal miscarriage. Later in the hospital, my traumatized body started hemorrhaging, and I desperately needed a rare blood transfusion.
My stepsister, who shared my blood type, held my life hostage. She forced my husband to sign our divorce papers before she would donate a single drop.
By the time the blood reached me, my uterus was irreparably damaged. I permanently lost the right to ever be a mother.
"The Anderson family can't have an infertile matriarch."
My own parents said this as they falsified my medical records to protect her. And my husband, blinded by his misplaced loyalty, simply walked away, leaving me with a meager settlement.
I lost my baby, my fertility, and my marriage all in one week. How could the people I trusted most be so completely heartless?
But looking at the divorce papers, I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed my name and unsealed my Yale architecture degree.
"I'm in. Send me the files for the Manhattan project."
The weak, pathetic Mrs. Anderson died on that operating table. Crista Cherry is back, and it's time for them to pay.