Chapter 5 - Descent into the Highlands
"What's happening?!" I screamed, gripping the armrests so hard my knuckles turned white as the G650 plummeted through the freezing cloud layer.
Dominic didn't panic. In the face of mortal danger, his cold, calculating mafia instincts locked into place with terrifying speed. He lunged across the aisle, unbuckled my seatbelt, and pulled me forcefully into his lap, wrapping his massive arms around my body and shielding my head against his chest.
"Pilot!" Dominic bellowed into the cabin intercom, his voice like cracking thunder. "Report!"
The intercom hissed and sputtered before the copilot’s frantic voice cut through the static: "Boss! We’ve lost hydraulic pressure in the starboard engine! Electrical failure across board! We’re going down over the Scottish Highlands—we have to make an emergency crash landing in the valley!"
"Brace!" Dominic shouted to the entire cabin, locking his arms around me like a cage of steel. "Brace for impact!"
The next sixty seconds were a blur of violence, roaring wind, and blinding white snow.
The jet slammed into the snowy tree line with a deafening screech of tearing metal, slicing through pine branches before skidding violently across a frozen meadow. The impact threw luggage across the cabin, oxygen masks dropped with a hiss, and the world spun wildly before slamming to a dead, groaning halt.
Silence followed. A ringing silence broken only by the hiss of leaking fuel and the alarm klaxons fading into a dying hum.
"Vivien?" Dominic’s voice shook slightly as he pulled back, frantically searching my face. "Vivien, talk to me. Are you hurt?"
"I... I think I'm okay," I gasped, trembling from head to toe, clutching my stomach in sheer terror. "The babies... I think they're okay."
Dominic let out a ragged breath of pure relief, pressing his forehead against mine for a terrifying second before kicking the emergency exit door open with his boot. Frigid, howling Scottish wind rushed into the cabin, carrying blinding snowflakes with it.
"Come on," he ordered, scooping me up into his arms bridal-style before I could protest.
We stumbled out into the deep snow just as the private jet’s wing erupted into a ball of roaring orange flames behind us.
May you like
Through the blinding blizzard, towering silhouettes of stone walls loomed out of the darkness—Ashford Castle. Its ancient windows glowed with warm, golden light, looking like a beacon of salvation against the frozen wilderness.
And as Dominic carried me through the snow toward the massive oak doors, shouting for medics and guards, I knew we had survived the fall. But as the heavy doors banged shut behind us, cutting off the howling storm, I knew the real war was only just beginning.
