Chapter 5: Held at Thirty Thousand Feet

KEIRA’S POV

“Keira! They’re already here, come out now!” Mom’s voice echoed from the living room.

I’d been awake for hours—showered, dressed, and ready—but I couldn’t bring myself to step outside. My chest felt heavy, my heart caught somewhere between nostalgia and dread.

For the last time, I looked around my room. The pale curtains, the framed photos, the desk where I used to do my homework—everything here held eleven years of my life. Joys. Tears. Memories.

And as I dragged my suitcase toward the door, I felt like I was leaving all of them behind.

“Yes, Mom. I’m coming out,” I replied, though my voice sounded small. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my feet were chained to the past.

“Come on, they’ve been waiting for us!” she urged impatiently, taking my suitcase from me before handing it to a man in a sharp black suit. For a second, I wondered if we were being escorted by the Presidential Security Group—that’s how formal and intimidating they looked.

Black coats. Sunglasses. Earpieces.

Even their silence screamed authority.

As we stepped outside, six more men in matching suits waited by the entrance. People from the apartment complex began to stare, whispering, wondering what kind of VIP we were.

“Please, ma’am,” one of the men said politely, opening the door of a sleek black Mercedes-Benz. Another car pulled up in front of us. And another followed behind.

Three luxury cars—just for us.

For a moment, I almost laughed.

Wow. So this is what it feels like to be a president’s daughter. But instead of excitement, all I felt was disbelief.

We drove through the busy streets easily, thanks to the escorts clearing the way. Mom looked out the window with the same dazed expression I had—as if we were living someone else’s life.

Then, unexpectedly, she frowned. “Aren’t we supposed to turn left to the Ashford mansion?”

The driver’s voice came through the headset. “Master Edward requested a short detour, ma’am. He’d like to show you something first.”

Mom gave me a puzzled look. I shrugged.

After about five minutes, the car turned into a wide, private area—and my eyes widened at the sight of a helipad gleaming in the sunlight. Several private planes stood in neat rows.

“What in the world…” I whispered.

Before I could ask further, the car door opened—and there was Edward, smiling like this was the most normal thing ever.

“Hello, darling!” He kissed Mom on the cheek, cheerful as always.

Mom frowned slightly. “Edward, what’s going on this time?”

He chuckled, slipping an arm around her. “You and Keira never take vacations. So, I cleared my schedule to give you one. A proper one.” His grin widened. “I even invited Drake, but as usual, he’s late. We might as well go ahead.”

At the mention of Drake’s name, my heart gave a tiny, unwanted flutter. “Maybe we should wait for him,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Edward shook his head. “No need. Knowing Drake, he’ll come if he wants to. Or not at all.”

I sighed quietly. Truthfully, I didn’t want to see him either… but somehow, the thought of being the only one left out with them felt worse.

“Come on, Keira,” Mom called gently. So I followed—because what choice did I have?

We were about to board when the roar of an engine sliced through the air. A red sports car sped toward us, gleaming like fire under the sun. Everyone turned to look.

And when the car screeched to a stop, I nearly forgot how to breathe.

The driver’s door swung open—and out stepped Drake Ashford himself.

He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, dark jeans hugging his frame, and sunglasses that hid his eyes but not his arrogance.

If I didn’t already know him, I might have swooned right there. But I did know him—far too well.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it,” Edward said with a laugh. Drake didn’t respond—just gave a curt nod before walking past him.

Typical.

Edward helped Mom board first. I waited my turn, struggling to lift myself onto the step—when suddenly, strong hands grabbed my waist and lifted me up effortlessly.

Startled, I turned—only to find Drake right behind me, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

My pulse stuttered. “Thanks,” I muttered, pretending not to care.

He didn’t answer—just followed me in.

Inside, the plane was smaller than I expected, but sleek and luxurious. Five seats, soft leather, everything spotless. I sat beside Mom, hoping for peace.

But of course, out of all the empty seats, Drake chose the one right next to me.

“What?” he asked when he caught me staring.

“Nothing,” I muttered, looking away.

“Seatbelts on,” Edward called out.

I fumbled with the belt, confusion twisting my face. Where the heck does this thing even go—?

Before I could figure it out, Drake leaned closer, took the strap from my hands, and buckled it himself. He was so close I could smell the faint trace of his perfume—clean, masculine, maddening.

My breath hitched as his hand brushed my thigh, adjusting the latch.

“There,” he murmured.

And then the plane roared to life.

My fingers gripped the armrest as the ground began to disappear beneath us. The sudden lift made my stomach drop—panic bubbling in my chest.

Without thinking, I grabbed Drake’s hand.

“I—I’m sorry!” I gasped, trying to pull away. But he didn’t let go. His grip only tightened, firm and steady.

“Relax,” he muttered, his voice low and calm. “You’ll be fine.”

I closed my eyes. His warmth seeped through my skin, quieting the fear that fluttered wildly inside me. Slowly, the tension eased. My breathing steadied. I didn’t even realize when sleep finally claimed me.

The last thing I felt was his hand still holding mine…and the weight of my head resting softly on his shoulder.