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The Flight Home

作者: Oby Jennifer
last update 公開日: 2026-04-27 03:39:51

I never knew the most difficult part of a private flight was having nowhere to leave.

On land, I could always walk away. There was always another room to enter, a different assignment or I could look out from the car window when I needed silence. On the flight, it was just the cabin, two seats, and the stable hum of the engines. No doors to lock or a place to hide.

I left my laptop open and worked on Hargreave’s file. I reviewed everything I had seen at the dinner, checking my observations with
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  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   The Library

    I went to the library because I needed a break from work, and there was nowhere in the house I could do that. My bedroom had turned into an investigation room. The laptop on the desk was a constant reminder: the documents, the hidden second phone, the encrypted notes. Everything was in that room with me. Even when I lay in bed, I could feel the laptop there, like it was watching and judging how I used my time.The library felt different. I had never used it for work. No scattered papers, no late-night calls, no decisions made in the glow of a screen. Just books everywhere, and that was all I needed tonight.I pulled a book from the shelf without looking at the title. It was fiction. I had not read a story for fun in over a year. I slipped into the big armchair by the window, opened it, and read the first paragraph. Nothing sank in.I read it again.Something in me finally stopped resisting. I let the book just be a book and the room just be quiet. This time, the words began to draw m

  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   Vivienne

    The note arrived Tuesday morning on thick cream paper.Not a text. Not a message through Adrian. A handwritten invitation, delivered through Vivienne’s personal assistant, requesting the pleasure of my company for tea on Thursday at 3 p.m.I read it standing at the kitchen counter with my coffee.Then I read it again.The formality was deliberate. Vivienne is the kind of woman who has spent thirty years understanding that how you do something often says more than the words themselves. She could have sent a text. She could have brought it up at a family dinner and made it casual and given me no time to prepare. Instead, she chose a handwritten note, a personal assistant, and seventy-two hours' notice.She wanted me to arrive on Thursday already wondering what the invitation was all about.I accepted the same way, then spent the next two days preparing like I always do before an important meeting. I prepared.Her sitting room at Dominic’s residence felt different from the grand spaces I

  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   The Encrypted Folder

    The folder finally opened at 11:58 p.m.No drama. No countdown. The program simply finished its last run, and suddenly the files sat there on my screen, plain and waiting.I had chased this moment for six long weeks.For a second I just sat still, staring at the list of documents. Then I started reading.Eleven years of private messages. Emails between Dominic and Hargreave. Memos that moved through the hidden parts of the company. Orders were sent out and followed by people who never imagined anyone outside their tight circle would ever see them.They were wrong.The very first file was from fifteen years ago. Only four short sentences. Dominic wrote to Hargreave: the investment had collapsed, they could not admit it, and they needed a way to make the entire loss vanish.Four sentences. That was how the whole fraud began.I read everything in order, slowly and carefully, the way I always do when it matters. I filled page after page in my notebook. I mapped out every decision, every n

  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   Iris

    The Millbrook cafe was still the same after six years.The same handwritten board was above the counter. The same bell over the door that rang like it was making a crucial public announcement every single time someone stepped in. The smell of fresh coffee was still the same, the smell from whatever was baking in the oven at 7. a.m. The warmth and comfort smell that somehow made the whole place feel larger and homier than it actually was.I lived three blocks away from there when I was twenty-two. When I had my first job, first apartment, a radiator with no consistent relationship to the thermostat, and windows that looked directly into the next building. Back then, I used to come here almost every morning and sit in this booth. I felt more like myself than anywhere I had ever been. Sitting here again made me realize how many years have passed.I ordered a cup of coffee and waited.Iris was nine minutes late—for her she was basically on time. She came through the door adjusting her

  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   The Wedding

    We took our seats with the other guests. The ceremony began right on time.The venue was created for events like this. High ceilings, fresh flowers carefully arranged in a vase, light glowing through the high windows, making everything look perfect.I had attended so many weddings before, and I usually kept my distance. I observe the event as if I'm making a report, while my mind drifts to other things. I intended to do the same thing today.When the bride walked down the aisle, my plan shattered. She was crying before she even reached the groom. Her tears were natural, which shook her shoulders because the feeling was too intense to hold back. When she got to him, he took her hands immediately, his expression was a mix of disbelief and excitement. Like he counted himself so lucky to have her and wasn't bothered about who saw it.The whole room grew silent. I watched them and felt a strange pressure rising inside my chest.My mind ran to the contract I kept in my drawer back at the

  • The Playboy's Forced Bride   The Flight Home

    I never knew the most difficult part of a private flight was having nowhere to leave.On land, I could always walk away. There was always another room to enter, a different assignment or I could look out from the car window when I needed silence. On the flight, it was just the cabin, two seats, and the stable hum of the engines. No doors to lock or a place to hide.I left my laptop open and worked on Hargreave’s file. I reviewed everything I had seen at the dinner, checking my observations with the documents I had collected. The pieces were falling into place, building a clear chain that linked him to the outside parts of the fraud. The work felt solid. Everything connected exactly as it should.But I could not get rid of the heavy feeling in my chest.About forty minutes into the flight, Adrian set his book down.“What did you think of Hargreave?” he asked.There was no conversation before the question. Just a direct and honest question. The way he spoke when he wanted a real answer

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