Married to the Pilot: His Ex Never Guessed I’m the CEO

The first time Elara saw him, the sky was bleeding gold. There she stood, on the very edge of tarmac, windswept in her trench coat looking at the descent of that sleek private jet, predator-like. The setting sun sank in the mountains casting long shadows across the runway, and for that moment, the world was suspended—like a breath that has been held much too long. Like a deep throaty growl, the jet's engines embrace the asphalt wall fridge in a curse that goes just past the sound barrier. Elara's pulse quickened, though she could not say exactly why. She had seen hundreds of landings. Thousands. But this one felt special. The door unfolded, like a silver wing, and he stepped out. Captain Aiden Cross. Even without the benefit of exposing the sunlight on the bone structure, he dominated the space commanding the air even without the benefit of the beauty that shone through. Tall and broad-shouldered, the only evidence that he was molded by years in uniform and a lifetime of carrying weight not his. The pilot's cap was tucked under one arm while muscular forearms and a single stark line of coordinates-34.0522 N, 118.2437 N-were inked on the rolled sleeves of his white shirt. Los Angeles. Elara's breath caught. She hadn't expected him to be... beautiful. Not in the polished, corporate way she was used to-the men in her world worn thousand dollar watches and smiles that never reached their eyes. Aiden was different. Raw. Like windburn or the first frost. Now our eyes met across the tarmac. Hers: the color of storm glass, sharp and unreadable. His: the blue of high altitude, the kind that made you forget to breathe. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just them. The engines faded. The wind stilled. Elara felt the ground tilt slightly, as if the earth itself had shifted to accommodate the moment. Then he smiled. Not at her. At the woman waiting beside the jet-a redhead in a cream blazer who threw her arms around his neck like she owned him. Elara looked away. This was not a matter of sentiment. It was a matter of business. With this merger, Celestial Airways would make headlines around the world soon, merging with Voss Industries. It'd be the crowning achievement of her career yet-her name in every financial page in the country by late afternoon tomorrow. But no one knew that yet. They knew only Elara Voss, a reclusive heiress who had disappeared from the public scene five years ago after her father's death. The woman who had turned a failing airline into a worldwide empire without stepping on a commercial flight. No one knew she had been flying private all along. They didn't know she'd been watching all along: As ginger laughter wafted behind, she adjusted her sunnies and stomped towards the terminal, her Louboutins clicking against concrete like punctuation marks. Aiden's voice carried, low and amused. "You always did have terrible timing, Lila." Lila. Elara set that one aside. Inside the terminal, the air was ethereal with jet fuel and espresso. She was not going in the lounge; rather she nod once at her assistant, Mara, who had just fallen in step beside her. "Ms. Voss," Mara murmured: "Captain Cross has requested a meeting. He says it's urgent." Elara stopped. "What about?" "No. But he's... persistent." She glanced back through the glass. Aiden was still on the tarmac now, all alone, staring up at the sky, obviously thinking the thing had taken a personal offense to him. "Tell him I am unavailable." Mara hesitated. "He mentioned the coordinates." Elara's fingers tightened on her phone. Coordinates. The same ones she'd tattooed on her ribs five years ago-the night she'd left everything behind. The same ones inked on Aiden's arm. She exhaled slowly. "Fine. Ten minutes. But not here." The rooftop bar was deserted except for the wind and the city sprawling below like a circuit board lit with magic. Elara was standing at the railing, her back facing the door, when she heard him approach. He didn't utter a word at first. Neither did she. Then: "You're taller than I thought." She turned. "You're late." Aiden's mouth curved. "You must be Elara Voss." "And you're the pilot who's been flying my planes for three years without knowing who exactly signs your paychecks." He took a step closer, closer enough so that she could see the scar bisecting his left eyebrow, the one that hadn't been in his personnel file. "I knew," he said quietly. "I just didn't think you'd remember me." Her head c****d slightly. "Should I?" "You used to fall asleep on my shoulder during red-eyes. Said turbulence gave you dreams." Her heart stuttered. She hadn't been on a commercial flight since she was twenty-two, but she remembered the voice. The way he'd whispered, "We're descending now, darling. Hold on." She thought it was a dream. "I was in a wig," she said. "And a name tag that said Sarah." "You chewed your lip when you were lying." The air between them was electric now. Elara crossed her arms. "Why the coordinates?" He glanced at his forearm. "You told me once that if you ever disappeared, that's where I'd find you." "I was drunk." "You were crying." She looked away. Aiden stepped closer. "I'm not here to rehash the past, Elara. I need your help." "With what?" "There's a flight tomorrow. LA to Tokyo. Unscheduled. My ex-wife is on the manifest." Elara narrowed her eyes. "Lila?" "She is in some trouble. Someone is using her to get to me, and I think... I think they're using your airline to do it." She studied him. "Why come to me?" "Because you own the sky. And because..." He hesitated. "Because you owe me." She laughed for sharp, bitter. "I don't owe anyone anything." "You owe me the truth." The wind tore at her hair. "I don't have time for ghosts, Captain." He reached inside his pocket, fished out a keycard, and held it out. "Room 2102. Plaza Royale. Midnight. If you're not there, I will assume the woman I knew is gone for good." She didn't take it. He set it on the rail. "For what it's worth," he said, "I never stopped looking." And, with that, he was gone. Elara gaped at the keycard. At the coordinates carved into plastic. At the sky, which was now dark and depthless. She picked it up. And for the first time in five years, she felt the ground shift beneath her again.