The gap between me and the world

One year ago, Ashley—my pilot boyfriend’s idealized ex—threw a tantrum mid-flight. She slammed her high heel into the cabin window, triggering a catastrophic decompression. As a flight attendant, I fought with everything I had to plug the breach, saving over a hundred lives. Afterwards, I insisted we call the police. Ashley was sentenced to nine years in prison. At the time, Louis held me and said he understood my choice, that he loved me. But later, on our honeymoon, Louis himself piloted the flight to Paradise Island. When the cabin depressurization alarm blared and passengers screamed, scrambling for oxygen masks, I rushed to the cockpit and saw a sight I would never forget. Louis was manually overriding the cabin pressure controls, his face utterly calm. “What are you doing?” His voice came through the intercom, each word a knife: “Stephanie, you sent Ashley to prison, ruined nine years of her life. I’m just making you pay with yours.” “Now we’re even.” When I opened my eyes again, everything had reset. This time, I was done playing the hero. Let’s see how they handle their own mess.

Chapters

Chapter 3

"That's right! Find the Captain!"

"Why should the rest of us die for the two of them?"

"Make them agree! Now!"

The cabin erupted.

Louis had heard the commotion perfectly well.

After a long silence, the intercom crackled back to life, his voice thick with humiliation and resentment. "Alright... Stephanie, I agree."

He paused, took a deep, audible breath, and addressed the whole plane in a flat, emptied tone. "Attention, this is Captain Louis. The current emergency resulted from a serious error by crew member Ashley, stemming from my personal failure in supervision. I accept full responsibility and will voluntarily ground myself pending investigation."

The cabin exploded into uproar.

Every gaze, sharp with contempt and fury, swung toward Ashley, still crumpled on the floor.

All the color drained from her face.

She couldn’t believe it. Her Louis—the man who had always coddled her—had just thrown her to the wolves to save his own skin.

"No... that’s not…" she whispered, eyes vacant.

I stood and walked over, looking down. "Your turn for the second condition."

Ashley looked up, tears welling, her gaze pure venom.

Forced to kneel and kowtow? It was worse than death.

"Stephanie! Don’t push me too far!" she shrieked.

"You still don’t get it, do you?" I sneered, crouching until my lips were at her ear, my voice a whisper for her alone. "You think Louis caved to save everyone? Wrong. He did it to save himself. If this plane goes down, the captain is the first to take the blame. And do you really think a man who just admitted to gross mismanagement in front of everyone gives a damn about you now?"

Her body began to tremble violently.

I’d struck right at the nerve of her deepest fear.

"Keep stalling," I added, my voice a low, deliberate murmur, like the whisper of a devil. "And soon, not even Louis—not even a god—will be able to save you. And then? All these lives? They’ll be on your head."

Survival instinct finally crushed her pathetic pride.

Clenching her teeth, her whole body shaking, Ashley slowly sank to her knees.

She lifted her head, looked at the ring of furious faces around her, and with utter humiliation, slammed her forehead against the cold floor.

"I’m… I’m sorry…"

With each kowtow, she muttered the apology.

The passengers’ rage seemed to cool a fraction with every muffled thud.

I didn’t spare her another glance, turning instead toward the breached window.

"Donna! Bring all the bandages and tape from the first-aid kits! And every pillow, blanket, and cushion on this plane!" I commanded, voice firm. "Find me some strong male passengers to help!"

In that moment, I was Stephanie again—the cool, professional Chief Stewardess from my past life.

Donna and the other flight attendants sprang into action.

Supplies quickly gathered at my feet.

Assessing the hole: small, but the cracks around its edges were spiderwebbing outward.

"We need a hard brace first, then soft material to pack it, then layer upon layer of tape to seal it!" I instructed the men who’d stepped forward.

Shrugging off my jacket, I wrapped a metal meal tray tightly in a blanket and pressed it against the breach.

A massive suction force instantly tried to rip it—and me—right out into the void.

"Now! Hold me!" I yelled.

Two men lunged forward, one wrapping his arms around my waist, the other bracing against my back.

"Tear the pillows and blankets into strips! Stuff every gap!" I kept directing.

Everyone scrambled to pack the hole.

Then, in that critical moment, another scream pierced the air.

"Ah!"

I glanced back. Ashley, who had just finished her kowtows, had somehow gotten to her feet. Staggering toward us—probably trying to "help" and salvage some face—her foot caught, and she stumbled, falling directly toward me.

"Look out!"

Continue to next part

My heart hammered against my ribs as the elevator climbed toward Ryan's floor. Eight years of love, of sacrifice, of waiting—all culminating in this moment. I twisted my grandmother's silver bracelet around my wrist, a nervous habit I'd developed since she'd given it to me before she passed. The small velvet box felt heavy in my coat pocket, the diamond ring inside representing not just my savings, but my complete faith in our future together. I'd rehearsed this moment countless times during my flight from Seattle to Los Angeles. The proposal wasn't traditional—a woman asking a man—but then again, our long-distance relationship had never been conventional. What mattered was that after eight years, I was ready to make it official, to finally close the gap between Seattle and LA. "You can do this," I whispered to myself as the elevator dinged at the twelfth floor. "He loves you. He's going to say yes." The hallway seemed longer than I remembered from my previous visits.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.8

After My Husband Made Me Kneel to His Girl, I Aborted

9.8

At six months pregnant, Thomas Montgomery had his friends over for some gaming. I prepared a meal and served it to them, only for Blaire Clark to burst into tears, accusing me of trying to upset her. All because I had mistakenly added some parsley she despised to the dish. Thomas and his friends demanded I apologize. "She's just sensitive; try to accommodate her," Thomas said coldly. I refused, and he pushed me down to my knees in front of Blaire. "Apologize to her, you're out of line!" Humiliated, I quietly scheduled the soonest possible appointment for an abortion that day. But when I truly decided to leave, Thomas went into a rage. I leaned against the cold wall as I made my way out of the hospital. The sky had turned dark, and snow was falling heavily.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.5

Ditched Before the Wedding

8.5

The night before the wedding, Wayne slipped me a sleeping pill, allowing his childhood friend to cut my long hair. When I awoke and saw my reflection, I was devastated. Maya, with her hair styled in playful curls, feigned remorse: "Oops, my hand slipped. You’re not mad at me, are you?" "It's all my fault for making Evelyn Robinson the ugliest bride ever!" Wayne teased, playfully tapping her nose, excusing her behavior: "Just throw on a wig. The veil covers everything; no one will outshine you." The room fell silent as everyone waited for me to react, expecting a tantrum like before. Instead, I calmly removed the engagement ring from my finger and placed it in Maya's hand: "Why go through the motions? Just switch brides; the veil hides everything anyway." My unexpected response took them by surprise. "I only wanted to give you a new hairstyle, Evelyn, but it just slipped... Please don’t be upset," Maya pleaded, leaning into Wayne, her eyes brimming with crocodile tears. The others avoided eye contact, mumbling attempts to ease the tension: "You’re misunderstanding, Evelyn.

Modern Romance Young Adult

8.0

Healed by True Affection

8.0

The church was a vision of white roses and silver ribbons—exactly as I'd dreamed since I was a little girl. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscope patterns across the aisle I'd walked down ten times before. Eleven was supposed to be our lucky number. This time, Talon and I would finally be husband and wife. "Isabel Howell, do you take Talon Dixon to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The pastor's voice echoed through the cathedral. I gazed up at Talon—tall, impossibly handsome in his tailored tuxedo, his dark eyes holding mine with what I believed was love. Five years of my life I'd given him. Five years of postponed weddings, of explanations to embarrassed guests, of tears dried in private. "I do," I whispered, my voice stronger than I felt. My hands trembled slightly in his grasp.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.0

His Ninety-Nine Betrayals, My Freedom

8.0

My fiancé, a Navy SEAL Commander, postponed our wedding 99 times for my manipulative sister. For our 100th attempt, I put my foot down. This date, or no date. He called two weeks before the wedding to cancel again. But this time, he threatened my career to force my compliance. Then I overheard the truth. He was planning to marry my sister-a "temporary" arrangement to get her into an exclusive therapy program. After he divorced her, he'd come back to me. I was his "certainty." His backup plan. My own mother supported it, slapping me when I refused to play along. "You will be a proper wife," she hissed. I had spent five years as a placeholder, my life put on hold for their drama. I was done waiting. I hung up the phone, canceled the wedding permanently, and volunteered for a three-year, off-the-grid assignment. But first, I took my wedding dress and a pair of scissors.

Modern Romance

9.8

The Secret Genius Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge

9.8

I spent three years playing the role of the perfect, invisible wife to Dillard Bentley, the billionaire heir of Manhattan. While he graced the tabloids with socialites, I stayed in the shadows of our penthouse, waiting for a man who treated me like a piece of furniture. One rainy night, the facade finally shattered. Dillard came home smelling of another woman’s perfume, and I handed him the divorce papers he never expected. But before the ink could dry, a violent pain ripped through me during a family lunch, and I collapsed in a pool of blood on the pristine marble floor. While I was being rushed to the hospital, Dillard’s mother dismissed my agony as a manipulative trick, and Dillard chose to believe her. He didn't follow the ambulance; he went to a gala to protect his mistress instead. I woke up in a cold emergency room only to be told I had lost the baby I didn't even know I was carrying. Because of the toxic "vitamins" his mother had been force-feeding me, my blood wouldn't clot, and I had to undergo surgery without a single drop of anesthesia. I bit down on a leather strap, feeling every agonizing scrape as they cleared the remains of my child, while my husband laughed at my pain over the phone. "Stop the drama, Erica. Tell her the divorce terms are non-negotiable. I'm busy." He hung up, leaving me to scream in silence. I realized then that the man I had once loved was the same man who let his family poison me. The "vitamins" weren't supplements; they were a death sentence for my unborn child, and he didn't even care enough to show up. Dillard thinks he’s divorcing a penniless nobody, but he’s about to find out that the world-renowned medical genius he’s desperate to recruit is the wife he left to bleed alone. I walked out of that hospital, threw my wedding ring in the trash, and reclaimed my true identity. Dr. N is coming to the global summit, and I’m not there to save the Bentley empire—I’m there to burn it to the ground.

Action Modern Romance

The gap between me and the world

Chapter 3

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