Chapter 5

Captain Elias Grant: Navy test pilot, decorated, respected, trusted with experimental aircraft that cost more than a small country's GDP. Until the day a storm caught him and his co-pilot over the Pacific. Until he'd made a decision in a split second that had saved the $100 million prototype, but cost his co-pilot everything.Mechanical failure, the investigation had concluded; no pilot error, honorable discharge, full benefits. None of it mattered. He'd been in command. His co-pilot, his friend, had died while he survived.And then, six months later, Rachel's diagnosis: the medical bills, the desperate search for experimental treatments, the slow, agonizing goodbye. Flying had been his life, but it had also taken everything from him. So he'd walked away, found work that required nothing but his hands and his back, and focused on the only thing that mattered anymore: giving Lily a stable life, far from the risks and the memories.Today was the first time he'd touched aircraft controls in three years. The moment Vivian Archer had mocked him with that cruel joke about marriage, something had shifted inside him—not anger, but something quieter, a whisper that said, Maybe, just maybe. He was tired of hiding.The flight had been like breathing again after years of holding his breath. Every switch, every adjustment, every minute of airtime—it felt like coming home. And it terrified him, because coming home meant remembering everything he'd lost, everything he'd failed to protect.Lily stirred, mumbling something about clouds, and Elias pulled a blanket over her shoulders, his hand resting briefly on her head. This was enough. This had to be enough.He had no idea that across the city, Vivian Archer was learning his story from a retired general who spoke with deep respect about a pilot who'd been one of the best before tragedy had grounded him.The next morning, when Vivian arrived at Kennedy Tower, she walked through the building differently. Her eyes scanned maintenance crews with new attention. When she reached her office, she stood at the window overlooking the hangar, where far below she could see a familiar figure in gray coveralls methodically working on landing gear assemblies.Marcus entered with her morning briefing, but she interrupted him. "The night maintenance crew... where do they usually work?""Hangar Three, mostly. Why?""I'll be working late tonight. Make sure I'm not disturbed."If Marcus thought this was strange, he was wise enough not to show it.Vivian spent the day in meetings, but her mind kept drifting. By 8:00 p.m., when the executive floors had emptied and the dayshift had gone home, she took the private elevator down to the hangars.Hangar Three was a massive space filled with aircraft in various states of maintenance. Work lights cast dramatic shadows; the smell of jet fuel and hydraulic fluid permeated everything. And there, underneath a Bombardier Global 7500, lying on a creeper board with tools spread around him, was Elias.

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