Chapter 137 Flying a Plane
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The man moved with calm precision, his face impossible to read as he requested clearance from the tower.
Yet First Officer Michael Chaplin felt an unease pressing at him, though he could not explain why.
The tower’s voice crackled through the radio. “Airbus ACJ350, runway 28L, cleared for taxi.”
“Taxiing, 28L,” Jonathan repeated.
His right thumb flipped the nosewheel steering switch, and his left hand eased the throttles forward. The aircraft began to roll steadily across the tarmac.
Eyes fixed ahead, his feet shifted with exacting care on the rudder pedals, keeping the jet perfectly centered on the line.
That was when Michael realized what had been bothering him. Normally, Jonathan Fullbuster flew with almost arrogant flair, guiding the plane like it was an extension of himself. But today, every motion was clipped, exact, and mechanical. Too exact.
Jonathan looked nervous.
Jonathan noticed Michael’s stare and cut him a sharp glance that said enough. Michael turned his head away and forced himself back into his role. The cockpit was no place for wandering thoughts.
The jet rolled onto the centerline and held there, engines humming like restrained beasts.
The tower came back. “Airbus ACJ350, surface wind two–eight–four at five meters per second, runway 281, cleared for takeoff.”
Jonathan’s gaze stayed locked on the PFD as he repeated the clearance word–for-
word.
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Chapter 137 Flying a Plane
“Thrust set. One hundred knots.”
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The nose gear rattled as vibrations surged through the landing gear into the cockpit. Jonathan’s voice never wavered.
“VI.”
“Rotate.”
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Golden stubble from harvested fields blurred past as the aircraft surged forward, lifting off and climbing into open sky.
Only when they leveled into cruise did Michael risk a smile.
“Captain, you’re flying unbelievably smoothly today.”
Jonathan gave him a sideways look. “So, you think I’m not smooth the rest of the time?”
“You are. I mean, it’s so smooth the ladies in the back probably didn’t feel a single bump. It’s the kind of flight they’ll remember.”
And Michael thought privately that the passengers were also realizing Jonathan was more than reliable.
He was someone people could trust completely. Today, his precision was a show in itself.
The scene turns to Oceaton.
Zacharias froze as he watched Anneliese climb into Jonathan’s car and leave with him.
His jaw tightened.
He yanked at his tie, turned, and slammed his fist hard against the hood of his Bentley.
His phone rang. Jackie.
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Chapter 137 Flying a Plane
Zacharias answered, listened briefly, and his expression darkened.
“You’re useless!” His voice snapped as he cut the call.
He climbed into his car, slammed the door, and roared away.
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When he reached the hospital, Jackie was already waiting in the ward with two bodyguards who looked pale and shaken.
The bed was empty of Coral. Instead, Lenora sat there in a hospital gown, her hair tangled, her head bowed.
Coral had been scheduled for an abortion that day. But when the doctor came, the guards realized too late.
She had already traded clothes with Lenora and slipped away. The one left in the bed was the Shaws‘ daughter.
“Where is Coral? Tell me!”
Zacharias stormed forward, towering over her with fury radiating from his eyes.
His sharp features cut like steel, his gaze dark and cold. Lenora clutched the blanket, her face drained of color.
She feared her brother in moments like this, but she still believed she had done nothing wrong.
She bit her lip and whispered, “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me.”
“You think I’ll believe that? Either you talk, or I’ll send people after her. And when I do, I will find her.”
Lenora’s anger flared.
“Zacharias, how can you be this cold? That baby is your son.
“For Anneliese, you turned your back on us. You let Mom rot in jail. And now you’re throwing away your son and your sister too?
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Chapter 137 Flying a Plane
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“But Anneliese doesn’t even love you. She’s already divorcing you. She’s seeing other men–more than one.
“And for a woman like that, you would betray your own family, the people who actually care about you?”
Her voice shook with outrage, and her eyes burned with hatred for Anneliese.
It had been Anneliese’s betrayal years ago that left Lenora locked up at home and forced to end things with Tristan Mantown.
She had been sixteen when she got pregnant.
Her mother had smuggled her into a shady clinic, and the botched abortion left her infertile for life.
She was only nineteen now, yet she felt as if her future had already been stolen from her. And in her mind, it was Anneliese who had destroyed it.
Four years ago, when Anneliese’s accident left her unable to conceive, Lenora saw it as nothing less than justice.
And when she saw Coral, pale and trembling in that hospital bed, being pushed into the same nightmare she had endured, she could not bear it.
Helping Coral was like trying to save her own broken self.
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