Chapter 1After my 8th failed diet, I stepped on the smart scale again.
"Welcome home, my bad girl. Missed daddy?"
My ice-cold pilot husband wouldn't even say "good night." And my scale profile? Always "GUEST."
Wait—he's finally flirting with me?!
I immediately changed into black lace. Slid my hand up his chest.
"Captain. Didn't know you love dirty talk via scale."
A flash of panic crossed his eyes, then he frowned.
"System glitch. AI talks crap now."
My chest tightened.
LIAR.
I went back to the bedroom and opened the Withings app.
There it was—a new entry: "99 lbs. 20% body fat. Yesterday, 2 PM." Right after his flight landed.
Even synced to her period tracker. Real thorough, huh?
Turns out he wasn't untouchable.
He just NEVER loved me.
I swallowed the nausea and texted Uncle Griffin—senior FAA exec.
[Find out who got in his crew car yesterday. Now.]
Ethan Kessler, can't keep it in your pants?
Fine. I'll ground you and your slut. For good.
...
Still pissed, I walked up behind Ethan and wrapped my arms around his waist.
My fingers ran over his tight abs, slid under his sweater.
Ethan went stiff.
Irritated, he shoved me off.
"Stop it. I'm making coffee. You'll get burned."
Three years of this cold shoulder.
I used to think he just had no interest in sex.
Turns out, he simply didn't want ME.
The coffee was done, but he didn't touch it.
Instead, he changed into his crisp uniform. His cold, perfect profile looked distant.
"Simulator's down at the training center. They need me."
"Can't stay with you tonight."
His voice was low. A notice, not a discussion.
As a senior FAA inspector, I knew he was lying.
But looking at that face I'd loved for five years—I still grab his sleeve, my voice trembling.
"It's New Year's Eve. Do you really have to go?"
"I've been waiting for tonight."
Ethan looked down at me. Annoyed.
"Nova, I'm a captain. I have responsibilities."
"Don't try to guilt-trip me with your clingy bullshit."
I snapped, nails digging into my palms.
"Responsibilities?"
"Going to train the simulator? Or train that 20% body fat trainee?"
Ethan's face darkened.
"You went through my phone? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Isolde's new. It's my job to mentor her. When did you get so paranoid?"
Right then, his phone rang.
Caller ID: "Flight Operations."
Ethan reached for it. I lunged, grabbed it first and hit speaker.
A breathy, whimpering voice came through.
"Captain~ the power just went out while I was showering."
"I think I twisted my ankle... I'm so scared of the dark."
Ethan panicked.
He shoved me aside and snatched back the phone, his voice turned softer than I had ever heard.
"Don't be afraid. I'm on my way."
He hung up. Looked at me like I was insane.
"Isolde just moved here. She has claustrophobia. As her mentor, I can't just leave her."
I pointed at the feast on the table. My heart turned to ice.
"It's New Year's Eve!"
"You're ditching your wife for some trainee who's scared of the dark?"
Ethan frowned, pulling on his shoes.
"Nova, don't be so heartless."
"You studied abroad alone for years. She's just a kid. She'll be terrified."
"You eat. Don't wait up."
He pried my hand off him and walked out without looking back.
The door slammed shut.
My phone buzzed.
Uncle Griffin sent a file:
"Flight attendant trainee Isolde Hale. Left the airport in Ethan Kessler's personal car yesterday at 2 PM."
Attached: a photo.
The girl was wearing MY silk robe, taking a selfie in front of my full-length mirror.
In the reflection—Ethan's back. Gently blow-drying her hair.
Something he'd never once done for me.
Outside, fireworks exploded. Lit up my exhausted face in the mirror.
So the ice-cold, untouchable captain could be gentle.
Just never with me.
Fine.
You want to play, Ethan?
Game on.
He didn't come home all night.
Next morning, I drove to the Delta training center alone.
The FAA had just approved a new fleet of wide-body jets. First passenger test flight in two days.
As the best pilot in the company, Ethan was running it.
I stood outside the simulator training room, looking through the one-way glass.
And what I saw was worse than yesterday's photo.
Chapter 2
Ethan was "training" the new recruits.
Everyone else stood at attention. Except Isolde.
She was sitting in the captain's seat.
Ethan stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. His hands covering hers on the yoke.
Isolde giggled, turned her head. Her nose brushed his jaw.
Ethan didn't pull away.
Instead, he leaned down, whispered something in her ear. They both laughed.
One of the male trainees smirked.
"Damn, Captain. We don't get private lessons like that."
Ethan put on a serious face, but his mouth was still smiling.
"Isolde's a beginner. She needs extra help. Don't project your dirty thoughts."
This sanctimonious bullshit made me want to vomit.
I shoved the door open.
BANG.
The entire simulator went silent.
Isolde flinched and shrank into Ethan's arms.
Ethan instinctively shielded her. Frowned at me.
"Who the hell? You can't just barge in here—"
Then he saw me.
A flicker of panic crossed his eyes—gone in an instant.
Replaced by pure rage.
I walked up to the console in my heels, stared them both down.
"Captain Kessler. Since when does simulator training require full-body contact?"
Ethan let go of Isolde, trying to look innocent.
"Nova, what are you doing here? This is a restricted area. Don't make a scene."
My eyes dropped to Isolde. A silk scarf was tied neatly at her neck.
It's summer. Why the scarf?
I reached out and yanked it off.
"Ah!" Isolde screamed, clutching her throat.
But everyone saw it.
Hickeys. All over her neck.
"Is that part of the uniform too?"
I threw the scarf in Ethan's face.
"Ethan, this what you were 'training' last night?"
The room erupted in whispers. Trainees glancing between the three of us.
Ethan didn't even look guilty.
Instead, he shoved me aside, took off his jacket and draped it over Isolde's shoulders.
Then he turned on me. Furious.
"Have you lost your mind, Nova Ashford?"
"This is a company training facility, not a place for your tantrums."
"Isolde has sensitive skin. Those are scratch marks."
Isolde hid behind Ethan, tears spilling dramatically.
"Ma'am... you misunderstood. The Captain was just holding me to simulate turbulence..."
SLAP.
I couldn't take it anymore. Backhanded her across the face.
"You shameless little bitch. Allergic? Let me help you with that."
"Turbulence? More like bed turbulence."
Ethan's eyes went wide. He lunged forward and slapped me hard.
The force sent me staggering into the wall.
Blood in my mouth. I stared at him in disbelief.
Five years of marriage. First time he'd ever hit me.
Ethan looked at his hand, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes.
"You hit her first!"
"Nova, you've really disappointed me. You look like a psycho."
"Go home. Stop embarrassing yourself."
Then he turned to Blair, his voice softened instantly.
"Isolde, don't cry. Let me take you to the hospital."
He scooped her up and carried her out in front of everyone.
Leaving me alone against the cold wall, blood still on my lips.
Ethan Kessler.
This slap—
I will make you repay a thousandfold!
Chapter 3
He didn't come home again that night.
Next morning, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
I opened Twitter—top trending hashtag:
#PilotWifeAssaultsInnocentTrainee
Isolde had posted a series of photos, playing victim.
Swollen cheek. Tear-stained face.
Caption:
"Working hard, only to be misunderstood.Is this the fate of every newcomer in the workplace?"
Worse—there was a video heavily edited.
The video only showed me ripping off her scarf and slapping Isolde.
Comments were a cesspool:
"Evil bitch deserves to be cheated on! Captain Kessler's too nice. I would've killed her."
"She hits trainees? Psycho."
"Doxx her. Ruin her life."
My DMs flooded with hate from strangers.
Someone even photoshopped my silhouette into a funeral portrait.
My hands shook as I stared at the screen.
This was Ethan protecting his little victim and throwing me to the wolves.
The bedroom door slammed open.
Ethan stormed in, furious.
"Look at what you've done!"
"PR's drowning in calls because of your stunt!"
"The test flight's tomorrow. Are you trying to destroy my career?"
I looked up at him, hollow-eyed.
"Your allergic trainee's destroying your career. Not me!"
He cut me off coldly.
"Enough! Isolde's suicidal now. Happy?"
"Was it worth it? Over something this small?"
He straightened his tie, back to his arrogant self.
"PR's handling it."
"Tonight, Isolde's doing a livestream to clear things up. You had to appear."
"You'll admit you misunderstood, apologize publicly. Kill the backlash."
I laughed, tears in my eyes.
"Apologize?"
"Ethan, I'm your wife. I get humiliated by your mistress, and you want ME to bow down and save your reputation?"
Ethan stepped closer, the air around him suffocating.
"Nova, be reasonable."
"You know what tomorrow's test flight means to me."
"Just apologize. This blows over and I'll make it up to you."
"I'll take you to Europe, buy you that bag you wanted. Deal?"
In his eyes, my dignity was only worth a handbag.
My gaze turned ice-cold.
Fine. You want an apology? I'll give you a big gift instead.
---
That night, I was dragged to the livestream.
Isolde sat there, crying on cue.
The chat flooded with sympathy for her. Vitriol for me.
Ethan sat beside her, then turned the camera on me. Eyes warning me.
I looked into the lens. Didn't read his apology script.
Instead, in front of millions of viewers, I said calmly:
"The innocent don't need to defend themselves. I'll see you all in hell."
Then I shut off the feed.
The stream went black.
Ethan exploded with rage and raised his hand to hit me.
But when he saw my eyes—dead, resolved—his hand froze mid-air.
No hatred. Just finality.
"You're insane! Completely unreasonable!"
He lowered his hand, pointing at me, his finger trembling.
"For tomorrow's flight to go smoothly, you stay home tonight."
"You don't leave this house without my permission!"
He grabbed Isolde and stormed out.
Silence swallowed the room.
That's when Uncle Griffin called. His voice was icy.
"Nova, want me to pull his test flight clearance right now?"
"No."
My voice was ice.
"Grounding him now just stops one flight."
"I want him to climb as high as he can. Then watch him fall and shatter."
---
Next day. Test flight with passengers.
As the FAA's senior inspector, I had to monitor flight data in real time.
After boarding, I went straight to the aft data monitoring room.
Ethan didn't know. He thought I was some nepotism hire coasting on Uncle Griffin's name.
The plane entered cruise. Data normal.
I was about to do a routine cockpit inspection when I noticed the cockpit door was open.
Ethan wasn't in his seat. Only the first officer, looking nervous.
"Captain Kessler went down to the lower cargo hold... to check an abnormal vibration."
As an inspector, I knew the lower cargo hold was restricted.
And there were no warning signals.
Professional instinct kicked in.
I immediately headed toward there.
But under the sickly green lights of the lower cargo hold, all I heard was—
Wet, sucking sounds. Isolde's breathy moans.
"Captain... isn't this way more exciting than the simulator?"
