Chapter 4 - Above the Atlantic
The cabin of the Gulfstream G650 was a marvel of private aviation luxury—cream leather upholstery, polished burl wood tables, and a private bedroom suite in the back. But trapped at 41,000 feet over the dark, churning expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, it felt more like a flying silver prison.
I sat in one of the plush armchairs, staring out the oval window at the endless sea of clouds illuminated by the pale moonlight.
Across the aisle, Dr. Simon Vance—a distinguished, silver-haired British physician whom Dominic had flown in from London—was packing away his portable ultrasound machine after checking my vitals.
"Everything looks remarkably stable, Mr. Ashford," Dr. Vance said politely, closing his leather case. "Miss Cole is experiencing normal fatigue and stress from the travel, but the three heartbeats are strong and synchronized. She needs rest, and above all, peace of mind."
Dominic nodded, sitting opposite me with a cup of black coffee in his hand. His eyes hadn't left me since we took off from Boston.
"Thank you, Doctor. You may retire to the rear cabin."
Once the doctor had walked away and the door clicked shut, the cabin grew quiet save for the steady, hypnotic roar of the jet engines.
"You haven't eaten your dinner," Dominic noted, gesturing to the silver tray of grilled salmon and asparagus sitting untouched on the table between us.
"I'm not hungry, Dominic," I said quietly, turning my head to look at him. "I feel like I'm living inside a movie I never auditioned for. One day I'm eating cereal in my studio apartment, worrying about a forty-dollar electric bill, and the next I'm fleeing a mafia syndicate on a private jet bound for a Scottish castle."
Dominic set his coffee cup down with a soft clink. He unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and moved to the chair directly beside mine, crowding into my personal space.
"I know it's overwhelming," he said, his voice dropping into that rich, velvet cadence that had bewitched me the night we met. "I didn't plan for this either, Vivien. When I danced with you at the Crane Estate, I was hiding from a rival delegation. I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for a family. But the moment I held you in my arms against the Atlantic wind, something shifted inside me. I couldn't stop thinking about you for weeks after you vanished into the dawn."
My breath hitched. "You tried to find me?"
"Every single day," Dominic confessed, reaching out to gently cup my cheek. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized was falling. "My men searched every payroll office, every bookstore, every cafe in Boston. When you finally walked into that clinic... part of me was furious that you wanted to throw away what we created. But mostly, I was terrified that I had almost lost you forever."
"I was scared, Dominic," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm still scared. I'm nobody. I come from nothing. What happens when your world chews me up and spits me out?"
"My world doesn't touch you," he said fiercely, his grey eyes burning with absolute conviction. "You are my world now, Vivien. I am binding you to me with every legal, financial, and personal tie known to man. When we land in Scotland, we are not going to a fortress. We are going home."
Before I could process the weight of his words, the cabin lights flickered violently.
The steady hum of the jet engines stuttered. A loud, mechanical groan vibrated through the floorboards, sending my coffee cup sliding across the table until it crashed onto the carpet.
May you like
The plane violently lurched to the left, pitching downward in a stomach-dropping nosedive.
My scream was swallowed by the sudden blaring of red emergency klaxons echoing through the cabin.
