Chapter 23: Flight Risk

Selene

I don’t sleep.

The video replays in my mind like a nightmare I can’t escape—Adrian in bed with Bianca, her smug expression, and that damn calendar in the background marked with today’s date. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. It wasn’t some twisted coincidence.

It was a message.

And I heard it loud and clear.

There’s no space left for crying. That phase is done. What’s left is the quiet, cold ache of clarity. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve kept my guard up. But I didn’t. I let him in. I believed him.

And now I’m the one left standing in the fallout.

I know make a decision then and send John a text saying I’d come to Newyork. I throw my phone on the bed, screen down. Off. He won’t get through to me. Not anymore.

I grab my suitcase and start packing. Efficient. Mechanical. If I pause, I’ll unravel. The memory of him kissing my forehead, holding me in bed, whispering that he was mine—it hurts too much to think about. I shove it all deep down.

By the time the sun rises, I’m ready. I send the video to Jonathan, followed by , “hey I’m sorry it’s short notice, but John has been insisting that I go out to Newyork to see his operation. In lieu of that video I’ve decided to . I need to step away for a week or so.

“Selene are you ok? Of course you can go”, he texts back immediately.

“I will be , I just need to step away . Ill call once I land”.

John had called back after I had texted him last night . He’d offered to come with the driver to fetch me, I refused the pick up from my place but ., . He insisted I fly with him. I choose to Uber to his hotel.

When my Uber pulls up to the hotel he’s already inside the lobby waiting. Dressed in a navy sweater and tailored slacks, hair perfectly in place, sunglasses on despite the hour. He walks towards my uber and opens my door .

“Good morning gorgeous . ” he smiles as he guides me to the dark suv and slides into the backseat next to me. His voice is calm, measured. Like he knows I’m a storm barely holding shape.

“Morning,” I reply , settling in, trying not to let the scent of his cologne lull me into distraction.

“You ready for an exciting experience ?”

“More than you know.”

He nods, then passes me a cup of coffee he ordered just the way I like it. He’s perceptive like that. Almost unsettlingly so… like someone else I know .

The drive to the private hangar is smooth and quiet. No one says much. And that’s fine by me. Words don’t help right now.

When we board the private jet, I take the seat by the window, letting the world grow smaller as we ascend into the clouds. For the first time since that video , I feel like I’m finally leaving the weight behind me—like I’m floating above the mess I didn’t ask for.

“Are you okay?” John asks, once we’re cruising.

“I will be,” I say, then pause. “Thank you. For this. For not asking questions.”

He nods. “Some things don’t need to be said right away. You’ll talk when you’re ready.”

That earns him a small smile. And maybe something else. Respect.

As we sip mimosas, thirty thousand feet in the air, he changes the subject—to work. Strategy. The potential rollout if his firm invests in Jonathan’s startup. It’s smart of him. Pulling me back to what I do best. It gives me control. Purpose.

The flight is just barely four hours, but by the time we land, I already feel more like myself.

Adrian

I open my eyes to blinding light and a pounding headache—and then a deeper dread hits. I can feel someone laying next to me, I turn over and gasp.

Bianca is in bed beside me. Naked. And I quickly lift up the sheet … yup I’m naked too.

My heart slams against my ribs as I shoot up and stumble out of bed, grabbing my pants off the floor, mind racing.

No.

No no no no.

I don’t remember this. Any of this, why the fuck am I in bed with Bianca ?..

I remember having a drink. One drink. Bianca hovering near me like a snake with a smile. Then nothing after that.

I spot my phone on the dresser and grab it. The lock screen glows with silence—no calls, no messages. I dial Selene.

I keep getting a busy tone. I figure she has blocked me..

I try again on my hotel line.

Voicemail.

Panic claws up my throat.

I go back to the bed and shake Bianca roughly. “What the fuck happened here Bianca?”

She stretches, smiling lazily. “Good morning to you too, babe”.

“Bianca, I swear to God—what did you do?”

“Relax,” she purrs. “You were upset. I was comforting you. You said you missed us, said you wanted to remember what it felt like.”

“I never—!” I cut myself off, backing away. “Why can’t I remember what happened?”.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It was probably just a little too much of the whiskey ,you said you needed something to take the edge off, You kept saying . You were spiraling. I helped. We ended up making love” I stare at her in sheer disbelief.

I check my phone after it buzzes and there’s a new text from Johnathan,

“Adrian what the fuck is going on , Selene sent me a video of you in bed with that slut Bianca . Wtf have you done ? And now Selene is on a flight to Newyork with John fucking Whikem .”

“Jonathan, something’s up , I’ll explain later . “ and hang up .

“You filmed us. You sent that video to Selene.”I spit out at Bianca.

She shrugs. “She needed to know what she was dealing with. You think she would’ve believed me otherwise?”

I stare at her like she’s a stranger.

“I’m not going to let you win,” I say, voice trembling with fury. “You think you’ve ended something—but all you did was make me want to fight harder for what I want .”

“Then start fighting,” she hisses. “Because it seems like you already lost her.”

Selene

We arrive at the Manhattan suite John arranged for me—floor-to-ceiling windows, soft lighting, a view that stretches forever.

He doesn’t follow me in.

“Dinner later?” he asks from the doorway.

I nod. “Dinner sounds good.”

“Take a nap if you need one. Rest. I’ll pick you up later, I need to tend to some business.”

I nod again, grateful that he’s not pushing for more.

Once the door clicks shut, I drop my suitcase and sink onto the plush couch. I should unpack. Call Jonathan. Set up my laptop. Instead, I just sit there going over the last few days and what a mess it’s been.

I turn my phone on again .

I don’t want to hear Adrian’s voice. Not yet. Not when it might undo everything I’m trying to rebuild so I keep his number blocked.

But I do call Jonathan, finally.

“You made it?” he asks.

“I’m here.”

“You okay?”

“I’m working on it.”

There’s a pause. “I know you’re trying to move forward. Just… don’t jump into something with John because you’re hurting.”

“I’m not.” I pause. “I’m just reminding myself who I am without letting Adrian’s mess get to me.”

“Fair enough. Take your time.”

I hang up and walk over to the window.

Somewhere below, New York pulses with noise and energy. Life doesn’t stop just because your heart breaks. And maybe that’s a good thing.

Because as of this moment, I’m no longer chasing anything or anyone.

Let them chase me.