Skybound Ecstasy: The Possessive Pilot Who Flew Straight Into My Heart

Luke jerked back, pain etched across his face, and let out a muffled sound as he loosened his hold. His eyes, now cold and sharp, locked onto Gillian with a chilling intensity.

Fear gripped her, and she instinctively tried to put space between them, but Luke let out a dry laugh and tossed a small paper bag her way. "Relax, will you? I just wanted to see if you needed something for the pain. Call it a rare moment of kindness."

He brushed off his wrinkled uniform with steady hands and looked her up and down. "But let me give you a warning. Don't go making decisions about surgery to please Ashton. If you try to fix things for his sake, you'll regret it."

Without waiting for a reply, Luke turned on his heel and strode out of the lounge.

Gillian's hands shook as she stared at the bag, half-tempted to throw it away. But when she peeked inside, she saw it was ointment for swelling.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered the humiliation in the examination room, and Luke's mocking words echoed in her mind.

After a moment's hesitation, she tucked the ointment into her bag and hurried out, nerves still jangling.

Her palms were slick with sweat, but no one seemed to notice her distress as people bustled through the terminal.

One thing was certain—she would never let Luke get close again. She was done with his games and every twisted encounter.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Gillian found a busy corner to wait, finally feeling a sliver of safety in the crowd.

Soon, boarding was announced over the airport's speakers.

With a deep breath, she made her way onto the plane ahead of the other passengers. Right away, she spotted Luke standing near the first-class section, his mouth still faintly bruised from her bite.

His eyes found hers, darker than before. "Glad you could join us."

Gillian refused to acknowledge him. She focused on stowing her luggage, determined to act as if he didn't exist.

There were no other first-class passengers—if Luke decided to pull anything, she would have nowhere to hide.

He watched her with a trace of amusement, unaffected by her cold shoulder. He took her bag and slid it into the overhead bin without a word, and then disappeared into the cockpit.

After takeoff, turbulence struck and the plane rattled violently.

Shouts broke out near the front, and a few frightened passengers began to cry.

With shaky fingers, Gillian lifted the window shade, only to find a wild storm raging outside. Bolts of lightning slashed through the darkness, making the endless black sky look even more menacing.

All around her, flight attendants hurried up and down the aisle, trying to reassure frightened passengers. The turbulence just kept getting worse, rattling the plane and sending panicked cries echoing through the cabin.

Gripping her seatbelt so tightly her knuckles went white, Gillian tried to steady her breathing.

A moment later, a calm, familiar voice broke through the chaos, broadcast over the intercom. "Good evening, everyone. This is Captain Luke Moore. We've hit some rough weather, but my crew and I are here for you. We'll do everything possible to keep you safe and get you where you need to be."

His tone never wavered, and slowly, the panic in the cabin ebbed away.

Something in the way he spoke made Gillian feel as if his last words were meant for her alone.

The plane rocked and rolled, thunder rumbling all around, but Luke's steady hands on the controls kept them from falling apart. Bit by bit, he guided them through the storm's fury, and finally, the plane broke free of the clouds.

By the time the wheels touched down, Gillian's back was soaked with cold sweat.

She didn't waste a second disembarking, practically fleeing the plane to avoid running into Luke again.

The academic seminar stretched across three days, and for once, everything unfolded without a hitch.

Still, Gillian kept thoughts of surgery locked away, haunted by the threat of Luke's interference.

When the last session ended, she packed up and caught the first flight home.

She had barely set foot in the arrivals hall when her phone rang, the hospital director's tone brisk and urgent.

"Gillian, we've got a high-profile patient in a crash just outside the airport. I need you there now—assess the situation, stabilize if you have to."

"I'm on my way," Gillian answered, already moving. She flagged down a cab and relayed the directions.

The accident site came into view with one sports car overturned, debris scattered across the asphalt, twisted metal catching the afternoon light. The second car sat behind it, its front end battered but upright.

Gillian's breath caught. She stood motionless for a second, trying to process the chaos, when emergency crews swarmed the scene.

"Dr. Brown! Over here—we need you to evaluate the driver!" someone called out.

Snapping out of her daze, she rushed forward, just as a man's desperate voice carried from inside the crumpled car. "Please—can anyone get me out of here?"

A chill ran down her spine. That sounded just like Ashton.