Jane stepped forward until she stood directly in front of Jenny, her posture straight as a plumb line, her gaze unwavering. The morning light from the corridor windows caught the captain's bars on her shoulders, making them gleam like polished steel.

"I had technicians work overnight," she said calmly, her voice carrying clearly despite the quiet of the nearly empty hallway. "Every switch, every wire, every circuit-they checked everything."

From her folder, she pulled out a thick report bound in blue cover stock and lifted it just enough for Jenny to see the official Aurelia seal stamped across the front page.

"The results are clear," Jane continued, her eyes never leaving Jenny's face. "Your mother brought drinks into the cockpit... and damaged the instrument panel. The liquid seeped into the primary flight control system, corroding wiring and short-circuiting three critical sensors."

Jenny's face drained of color, leaving her pale as paper. She looked away, her fingers trembling as she clutched at the sleeve of her uniform jacket. A faint stain from yesterday's juice was still visible on the fabric.

Beside her, Reuben shot her a sharp, surprised look-clearly unaware of the full extent of the damage. His jaw tightened, and he took a small step back as if putting distance between himself and the mess she'd created.

Jane lowered the file slightly, her tone turning colder, sharper-like ice forming on a lake surface.

"Instead of playing the blame game, you should focus on how you're going to cover the damages."

Jenny instinctively turned to Reuben, her eyes wide with pleading. But he wouldn't meet her gaze, his attention fixed on the floor.

"The compensation has already been paid," he said stiffly, his voice carrying a note of strain despite his attempt to sound confident. "My father liquidated part of his shares to cover the costs. Every penny."

A flicker of genuine pain slipped into his voice as he added, "Must you push us to ruin? There's nothing left to take."

Jane's lips curved faintly-not with sympathy, but with amusement at his misplaced pride.

"That payment covered reputation damage, aircraft repair, and operational losses," she replied, her voice steady and unyielding. "It doesn't end there. The FAA is launching their own investigation-they'll want to review every flight you've been involved in for the past year. And Aurelia's ethics board will be deciding whether your licenses should be revoked permanently."

Jenny swayed slightly, as if the ground beneath her had shifted. She reached out to steady herself against the wall, her face contorted with a mix of fear and anger.

Reuben's expression hardened in disbelief. "You'd really do that? Destroy careers over one mistake?"

"Jane..." Jenny's voice cracked, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

Jane turned her head toward her, expression neutral-neither cold nor warm, simply observing.

"We're practically family," Jenny said weakly, her voice trembling. "Do you have to be this ruthless? Can't you find it in your heart to forgive us?"

For a moment, Jane said nothing. She just looked at Jenny-at the woman she'd once considered a cousin, a friend, someone she'd tried to help when she had nothing.

Then-

Her eyes sharpened, and something cold and hard flickered in their depths.

"When you first came to Seattle with nowhere to go," she said slowly, each word deliberate and clear, "I gave you a place to stay. Let you sleep in my spare room, shared my food, helped you fill out your application for Aurelia."

Jenny's breathing grew uneven, her hands shaking as she pressed them against her eyes.

"And how did you repay me?"

Jane's gaze flicked briefly toward Reuben-who flinched slightly, knowing exactly what was coming next.

"You seduced my fiancé... and tampered with my exam results. You changed my flight plan during my captain's assessment, almost causing me to crash during a simulated emergency landing."

Reuben's face darkened with shame and anger-anger at being exposed, shame at what he'd allowed to happen.

Jenny scratched at her arm nervously, the skin already red and irritated from her frantic movements. She couldn't meet Jane's eyes, couldn't find any way to deny the truth.

"And now," Jane finished, her voice firm and final, "you expect help? You expect me to clean up your mess again, to pretend none of this happened?"

A pause. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, with years of betrayal and hurt.

"Jenny Burrows... you're pathetic."

The words landed without force-quiet, matter-of-fact-but cut deeper than any shout ever could. They stripped away every last layer of pretense, every excuse Jenny had ever made for herself.

Jane turned and walked away, her steps steady and unhurried, leaving Jenny and Reuben standing alone in the empty corridor.

Behind her, Jenny opened her mouth-

"You-!"

But no words came out. Her voice caught in her throat, choked off by tears and shame. For the first time in her life, she had nothing left to say.

As Jane walked down the corridor, the tension that had been coiled in her shoulders for weeks finally began to ease. She slipped her phone from her pocket and dialed a number she knew by heart, holding it to her ear as it rang once, twice.

"Jayden," she said, a small genuine smile forming on her lips as he picked up. "I'll be home for dinner."

She paused, listening to his response, then added, "Yes, I'm serious."

Meanwhile-Jayden's office

Jayden had just ended the call, setting his phone down on his desk with a soft click. A faint smile lingered on his lips as he typed out a quick message to the legal team, confirming that no further action would be needed from his end.

Across the room, Michael stared at him-intensely, as if he were seeing him for the first time. He'd been watching the subtle shift in his friend's demeanor for weeks now, but this was different-Jayden actually looked... happy.

"Jayden," he called, pushing off the couch where he'd been lounging.

Jayden looked up, the smile still faintly present in the corners of his eyes. "What?"

"You know what you look like right now?" Michael asked, leaning in dramatically, his hands clasped together under his chin.

The smile on Jayden's face faded slightly, replaced by his usual calm composure. "What?"

"Like someone under a spell," Michael declared, spreading his arms wide. "A love spell! Cast by our fearless Captain Harley!"

Jayden rolled his eyes, standing up and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. "Cut the crap, Michael. We have work to-"

"Alright, alright," Michael said, raising his hands in surrender, though his grin remained. "I'm just saying-you've been different lately. Less 'cold-hearted corporate overlord,' more 'actual human being.'"

Jayden ignored him, heading for the door with his usual purposeful stride.

Michael blinked, staring after him in surprise. "Where are you going? No overtime today? You've been pulling twelve-hour days for months!"

Jayden paused just long enough to glance back at him, his expression softening slightly.

"Going home," he said simply. "To cook dinner."

"...Huh?"

But Jayden was already gone, the door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality.

Michael stood there, staring at the empty doorway for a long moment before shaking his head in disbelief.

"...What is happening?" he muttered, scratching his head. "Workaholic turned homemaker? Did I miss a memo? Is the world ending?"

He placed a hand on his forehead dramatically, staggering backward toward the couch.

"I'm not running a fever, right?" he said to the empty room. "Someone check if hell just froze over!"

Jayden stood at the kitchen counter, dressed in a fitted charcoal gray shirt and dark camouflage trousers, an apron printed with tiny airplanes tied neatly around his waist. The soft rhythm of the knife hitting the wooden chopping board filled the room as he sliced carrots, onions, and bell peppers with precise, effortless movements-each piece cut to exactly the same size.

The front door clicked open with a familiar sound, followed by the rustle of her coat being hung on the rack.

He lifted his head slightly, a small, genuine smile forming when he saw her standing in the doorway. The overhead light caught the strands of dark hair that had come loose from her ponytail, and her eyes held a tired but relieved glow.

"Welcome back," he said, his voice warm and steady. "Long day. Go wash up first-dinner'll be ready in twenty minutes."

Then his gaze dropped back to the cutting board, his hands continuing their steady work as he moved on to slicing garlic.

Jane didn't move.

A bottle of deep red wine-her favorite vintage-rested in her hand as she stood there, quietly watching him. The evening light from the window painted warm gold across his shoulders, highlighting the way his sleeves were rolled just enough to reveal the lean strength of his forearms. The controlled precision in his hands as the knife moved swiftly, cleanly through the vegetables... the calm focus in his expression... even the simple cotton apron seemed to fit him perfectly, making the entire scene feel strangely domestic-and unexpectedly attractive.

Jayden paused mid-slice. He could feel her eyes on him, warm and focused. Looking up, he caught her staring, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He set the knife down carefully and walked toward her, his movements deliberate and easy.

Stopping just in front of her, he leaned in slightly and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger-light, playful, intimate.

"Did the trip make you dumber?" he teased, his voice low and warm. "You've been standing there staring for a full minute."

Jane blinked, snapping out of her reverie. She quickly looked away, swallowing slightly as she felt heat rise to her cheeks.

"Oh-no... it's not like that," she said, shaking her head lightly, though her voice was soft and slightly flustered. "I just didn't expect the apron to suit you so well. You look... capable."

A faint blush crept up her neck, visible even in the dim light.

Jayden glanced down at himself, then back at her, his smirk widening into a genuine smile.

"I'm not saying I'll dump all the cooking on you," she added quickly, holding up the wine bottle defensively. "I mean... you just look good. Competent. Like you know what you're doing."

Jayden let out a low, warm chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "Flattery won't get you out of plating the food later. Or washing dishes."

"Fine," Jane replied, lifting her chin slightly-though the smile on her lips gave away how much she didn't mind. She extended the bottle toward him, her fingers brushing his as he took it.

"I brought wine," she said, her voice settling into something more relaxed. "Let's celebrate tonight... that scumbag and his mistress finally got what they deserved."

Jayden's gaze softened as he looked at her-really looked at her, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion around her eyes and the way her shoulders had finally relaxed. He set the wine down on the counter and reached out to brush a loose strand of hair from her face.

"Congratulations," he said quietly. "You earned this."

Jane laughed lightly, leaning into his touch for just a moment before pulling back. "Come on, I'll help. I'm not completely useless in a kitchen."

She reached for his hand and pulled him back toward the counter, her fingers wrapping around his palm-warm, comfortable, natural.

Side by side, they worked.

Jane rinsed the crisp green lettuce under running water, the soft sound of water filling the space, while Jayden continued chopping mushrooms-quick, precise, almost effortless. The kitchen began to fill with the rich aroma of sautéed onions and garlic as he added them to a large pot on the stove.

She turned to watch him again, her hands stilling as she held the colander full of lettuce.

The speed.

The neatness.

Each slice uniform, perfect.

"Wow," she said, genuinely impressed. "Your knife skills are incredible. Do you cook often?"

Jayden smiled faintly, not looking up as he added diced tomatoes to the pot. "Mm. Growing up, my mom loved my dad's cooking. He'd make elaborate meals every Sunday-roasts, stews, things that took all day to prepare."

For a moment, his expression softened-nostalgic, warm. "I picked up a few things watching them. Dad said if I wanted to impress anyone, I'd better learn to feed them well."

Jane chuckled, shaking the excess water from the lettuce. "Your dad sounds like a romantic."

Jayden nodded slightly, still caught in the memory as he stirred the pot. "He always said-the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach. Thought I might stay single forever... so he trained me early. Said even if I never found someone, I should at least be able to take care of myself."

Then he looked up-directly at her, his dark eyes holding hers. The air between them shifted, warm and charged with unspoken meaning.

Jane quickly looked down at the lettuce in her hands, her cheeks flushing again as she busied herself with placing it in a large bowl. A small, breathless laugh escaped her.

"I'd love to meet him," she said, her tone deliberately lighter now.

"You will," Jayden replied easily, turning back to the stove as he added a pinch of cumin and coriander, the rich scent of spices beginning to fill the air. "He's returning from a business trip tomorrow. I will tell them to expect dinner."

Jane's hands stilled. The lettuce bowl hovered mid-air over the counter as she looked up at him, surprise clear in her eyes.

"...Tomorrow?" she repeated, her voice slightly higher than usual. "Isn't that a bit sudden? We've only just... well, we've never talked about meeting your parents before."

Jayden only smiled, adjusting the heat under the pot before turning to face her. He stepped closer again, gently taking the lettuce bowl from her hands and setting it down on the counter.

Their fingers brushed-brief, warm, sending a small shiver down her spine.

"Not at all," he said calmly.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek for just a moment.

"Just make sure you address them properly," he added lightly.

Jane looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes-and for a moment, time seemed to slow. The warmth of his hand on her cheek, the soft glow of the kitchen lights, the rich smell of food cooking on the stove... it all felt like something real, something solid and lasting.

Then she quickly looked away, a soft flush rising to her cheeks as she busied herself with pulling out plates from the cupboard.

Jayden returned to the stove as if nothing had happened, stirring the pot with practiced ease.

Jane stood there for a moment, her hands resting on the counter as she tried to steady her breathing. Meeting his parents... so soon? The thought sent a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering through her stomach.

Her fingers tucked another loose strand of hair behind her ear, and a small, shy smile formed on her lips.

Maybe this was what it felt like-building something real. Something worth fighting for.

The next day, Jane sat in the pilot lounge, a cup of dark roast coffee cradled between her hands. Steam rose in thin white wisps, curling into the cool morning air of the nearly empty room. She wasn't drinking it as much as she was holding onto it-like an anchor keeping her steady as her mind raced. Her eyes flicked to the analog clock on the wall-its hands creeping toward 10:30 AM-then back down to the polished surface of the table. Her posture, usually straight and composed like a plumb line, carried a subtle stiffness, her shoulders slightly hunched as she picked at the edge of her coffee cup.

Beside her, Gloria flipped through a glossy aviation magazine, completely at ease as she leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her uniform was crisp but relaxed, her hair pulled back in a neat bun that still had a few loose strands framing her face.

"Gloria..." Jane called, her voice unusually hesitant-so soft that Gloria almost missed it.

"Hmm?" Gloria responded, not looking up immediately as she paused at a page featuring the latest commercial aircraft models.

Jane set her cup down carefully on the coaster, her fingers twitching slightly as if unsure what to do with themselves. "Are you... already married?"

Gloria finally looked up, raising a perfectly shaped brow. "Yes-three years now. Why?" Then, with a small mischievous smile, she added, "Didn't you get married too? That quiet guy who's always dropping off meals for you?"

Jane nodded, a nervous smile tugging at her lips as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We did... it was more of a practical arrangement at first, but now..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"I saw your husband bringing you meals before," Gloria continued, her tone turning playful as she leaned forward slightly. "Broad shoulders, slim waist... looks very capable. The kind of guy who knows how to handle things." She winked, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "So... how's his stamina? You know what I mean."

Jane choked instantly, coughing into her hand as her face burned bright red. She grabbed her coffee and took a hurried sip-only to nearly spit it out as the hot liquid hit her tongue. "I-I actually wanted to ask something else," she said quickly, waving her hand dismissively as if brushing away the previous topic entirely. "When you first met your husband's parents... what did you bring? As a gift, I mean."

Gloria paused, studying her for a moment-taking in the way Jane was fidgeting with her cup, the faint lines of worry around her eyes. Then a warm, knowing smile spread across her face.

"Ah... arranged marriage turning real, huh?"

Jane's eyes widened in alarm, her hands flying up defensively. "N-no! It's not-we're just... we've never really talked about family before, and now he wants me to meet his parents tonight and I don't know what to do-" She stopped, realizing she was rambling and only making it worse. Her shoulders dropped as she looked down at the table, embarrassed.

Gloria chuckled softly, reaching across to pat her hand reassuringly. "Relax. I'm not teasing you anymore..I have never seen the composed captain Harley like this before . I get it-meeting the parents is nerve-wracking even when you've been together for years." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her expression turning serious. "When I first met my in-laws, I brought a bottle of premium baijiu-my father-in-law's favorite-and some high-quality ginseng supplements for my mother-in-law. They'd mentioned wanting to try traditional remedies for her joint pain."

Jane nodded slowly, absorbing every word as she pulled out her phone to make a quick note.

"But," Gloria added, raising a finger to emphasize her point, "you should ask your husband what they actually like. Tailor your gift to them specifically-it shows you've been paying attention, that you care about who they are as people. That leaves a way better impression than something generic."

Jane's expression brightened slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "Got it. Thank you, Gloria. I'll treat you to dinner or something later-really, I appreciate it."

Gloria waved her off, already standing up and gathering her things. "No need for formalities between colleagues. We look out for each other, right?" She slipped her magazine into her bag, heading for the door. "I've got a flight to Shanghai to prepare for-see you around, Jane. And good luck tonight!"

"Bye," Jane replied softly, watching her go before leaning back into her chair, her thoughts drifting.

"Baijiu..." she murmured under her breath, already scrolling through her phone to research local liquor stores that carried premium brands.

Before she could sink deeper into her planning, a voice interrupted her-rough and too loud for the quiet lounge.

"Jane."

She looked up immediately, her expression snapping back to professional composure as she recognized the man standing before her. Flight Instructor Norman Badwell-known around the airport for his aggressive teaching style and even more aggressive advances toward female staff. He was broad-shouldered with a thick beard that did little to hide his leering gaze.

He walked closer, his heavy boots thudding against the tile floor as his gaze lingered far too long on her face, then her shoulders, then lower.

"Since Reuben has been terminated," he began, spreading his hands as if delivering good news, "any plans for your career? Heard you've been doing well as a captain."

Jane stood up instinctively, her posture straightening as she reached for her bag. "No," she replied curtly, attempting to walk past him toward the door.

He stepped sideways smoothly, blocking her path completely. His smile was tight, predatory.

"My department has an opening for a flight instructor," he said, his tone shifting from friendly to something more insistent. His eyes roamed openly now, taking in every detail of her uniform, her figure. "Interested? I could put in a good word-make sure you get the position even without the usual experience."

Jane's expression hardened, her jaw tightening. "Instructor positions require exceptional teaching and leadership experience. I just passed my captain certification last month. I'm not qualified, and I wouldn't want to take a position I haven't earned."

Norman smirked, clearly uninterested in her reasoning as he took another step closer-close enough that she could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "Must I spell it out for you, sweetheart?" he said, leaning in until his face was just inches from hers. "With Reuben gone... there's no one looking out for you. But I can take care of you-get you better routes, better pay, whatever you want."

His hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing lightly-though his fingers dug in just enough to be uncomfortable.

Jane froze for a split second-not from fear, but from sheer restraint. She'd dealt with men like him before, and she'd learned long ago that showing weakness only encouraged them further.

"Instructor badwell, I'm married," she said coldly, her voice steady despite the anger rising in her chest.

"Married?" Norman chuckled, his grin widening as if she'd just told him a joke. "Doesn't that make it more exciting? A little secret between us-no one has to know."

That was enough.

In one swift, practiced motion, Jane grabbed his wrist with her left hand-her grip tight and precise, fingers wrapping around his bones like steel. Before he could react, she twisted his arm sharply behind his back, using his own weight against him to force him forward.

"Aaah-!" Norman cried out, his knees buckling as pain shot up his arm. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the edge of a nearby table.

Jane didn't hesitate. She forced his arm further up until he was bent at a ninety-degree angle, completely at her mercy-then shoved him away with enough force to send him stumbling back several steps. He caught himself against the wall, his face flushed with pain and embarrassment.

Her eyes were ice-cold as she looked at him, her voice low but cutting through the sudden silence of the lounge.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she said, every word clear and deliberate. "Or next time, I won't stop at just twisting your arm. I'll have you reported to HR, and I'll make sure every pilot and crew member in this airport knows exactly what kind of man you are."