In The Pilot's Arms, Beyond The Clouds

A Maybach had been parked in the shadows by the river for hours, its tinted windows catching only faint glimmers of passing streetlight.

Inside, Irene Burton sat with her cheeks warming, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her unsteady fingers tried to compose themselves.

Across from her, Caiden Smith took in her shy hesitation with a lazy smirk before letting out a low chuckle. "Come over to my place tomorrow."

The word lingered in her chest like a spark. Tomorrow... it would be her birthday. Did Caiden actually remember?

For a heartbeat, a bright flicker rose in her eyes, a tiny spark she hadn't felt in a long time.

Then he added, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, "Paulina's stopping by tomorrow. She's still not feeling well, so I'll send you a menu. Make sure you prepare something healthy for her."

Irene's chest twisted sharply, but she swallowed the sting and bowed her head. "Of course, Mr. Smith," she murmured, the obedience in her voice hiding everything she couldn't say.

Paulina Moore-the one his heart had chased for so long-had finally come back.

She had spent her time overseas buried in medical research, earning accomplishments people whispered about in awe, and she had only just returned to the country this week.

Now that Paulina had come home, her role as the disposable stand-in was nearing its end.

A strained smile tugged at her lips as she finally murmured, "So... when are you planning to cut things off between us?"

"Cut things off between us?" Caiden arched a brow as if she had told a joke, then caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up with practiced ease. His gaze drifted over her like a well-worn habit. "Do you honestly think you can walk away from your first man?"

Irene had fallen into his world at eighteen-an inexperienced girl shaped to suit his every preference, trained to bend wherever he pushed.

Paulina, now a freshly returned medical PhD stepping into a top biotech firm, would be swallowed by her work the moment she settled in. She wouldn't have the time to cater to him.

That meant Irene still held her only remaining value.

Heat crawled up Irene's cheeks beneath his lingering stare, yet she forced herself to meet his eyes. Her voice shook, but every word carried a painful resolve. "You may have been my first, but you won't be my last. I refuse to play the side chick. I'll marry someone who actually values me and build a life that's mine."

Caiden barely reacted. With a slow, dismissive motion, he slipped a bank card from his wallet and held it out as if settling a bill. "You don't get to decide whether we're done."

He let the moment stretch, then tipped his chin with a mocking lift of his brow. "And tell me-would your family even allow that?"

The jab struck like ice, locking Irene where she stood.

Instead of reaching for the bank card, she shoved the door open and stumbled out, her chest tight with humiliation.

As she stepped into the night air, old wounds surged up without mercy.

Years ago, her father, Tobias Dixon, and her second brother, Neil Dixon, had sunk the family into crushing gambling debts. Her eldest brother, Levi Dixon, still needed expensive tuition overseas.

Only her third brother, Sean Dixon, brought in any income-working as Caiden's secretary.

To keep the family afloat, Sean had led her into Caiden's hands during a business dinner, offering her up like a bargaining chip.

That night ended up being Irene's first time having sex, and every inch of her shook with terror, humiliation, and aching shame.

And yet Caiden had shown her a softness she never saw coming.

Irene had once yearned for affection so intensely that, even with Caiden breathing Paulina's name against her neck all night, she still let herself fall for him like a fool.

Only later did she discover the truth-that it wasn't her he wanted, just the shadow she cast. She happened to resemble Paulina, and she had chosen the same field of study, which made her an easy stand-in.

Back then, she was younger than Paulina but gifted enough to finish her coursework in two frantic years.

But right before graduation, Caiden's controlling hand closed around her future. He made her give up on her medical career dreams. She didn't even complete her degree because of it.

He pushed her into the role of his private nutritionist, and kept her tucked away as his secret lover.

She understood he only coveted her body, but she still held onto that tiny wish that Paulina would stay gone forever-so she could remain at his side.

Now, as she watched the truth unfold in front of her, that fragile hope finally crumbled to dust.

...

In the Smith family's villa, Irene kept her head down in the kitchen, working in silence as she put a dish together.

A moment's distraction sent boiling water splashing over her fingers, and a sharp gasp escaped her before she could bite it back. Caiden gave her a mild scolding. "Be more careful next time."

His gaze flicked to her hand before he headed toward the fridge to grab some ice.

For one foolish heartbeat, warmth stirred in her chest-maybe he planned to tend to her injury himself.

That hope died the second Paulina entered the living room, moving with effortless grace.

Her perfectly set curls, pristine makeup, and confident composure filled the space in a way that made Irene instinctively shrink.

Caiden redirected instantly, veering away from Irene without hesitation to greet Paulina.

He didn't spare Irene so much as a backward glance.

Irene stared at her puffy, reddened hand and let out a shaky laugh, tears clinging to her lashes as she wiped them away with the back of her wrist.

At the dinner table, Paulina admired the carefully arranged dishes with a soft, glowing smile. "Caiden, you really put thought into all this. These are exactly what I like."

The words sliced through Irene's chest, sharp enough to steal her breath.

Each plate-every familiar flavor-had also been Caiden's favorites. Only now did she realize even his tastes matched Paulina's.

Everything she had believed she understood about him had been shaped by Paulina's shadow, woven through every moment. They had been bound together long before tonight, even while Paulina lived oceans away.

How the hell had she been so blind?

Across the table, Marlee Smith, Caiden's mother, was usually impossible to please. Yet, she beamed at Paulina with rare warmth. "Paulina, you're back for good this time, aren't you? If you're staying, we can finally start making plans for your wedding with Caiden."

Paulina dipped her head with practiced modesty, stealing a soft look at Caiden. "Marlee, I've been gone for years. How would I know if Caiden hasn't already found someone important? I'd hate to get in the way of whatever makes him happy."

Her voice carried a gentle tease, and her gaze slid toward Irene with deliberate sweetness.

Marlee let out a thin, derisive laugh. "Just because she's sitting at this table doesn't mean our family would ever acknowledge someone from such a low background."

Then her entire expression brightened as she reached for Paulina's hand. "A woman like you-a brilliant PhD with real accomplishments-that's the kind of person worthy of Caiden."

Caiden leaned in to pour Paulina a glass of wine, his tone warm and certain as he murmured tenderly, "Paulina, from the very beginning right up to this moment, you're the only person I've ever had in my heart. Don't pay attention to any of that nonsense."

Paulina brought the rim to her lips, taking a timid sip without offering a single rebuttal.

Irene grasped instantly why she had been summoned tonight. This wasn't about cooking Paulina's dinner.

Caiden wanted Paulina to see the distance between them-proof that Irene meant nothing to him, not now and certainly not in the future.

The realization sliced straight through her chest.

She forced down the rising ache, mumbled a flimsy excuse, and rushed out before her voice could crack.

The sting from her burned hand throbbed with every step, anchoring her to the awful clarity of the moment. With tears blurring her vision, she unlocked a number she had buried long ago and typed with trembling fingers. "Mr. Shaw, does that contractual marriage deal still work? I'm ready to accept it now."

Reaching the front of her building, Irene realized the message she had sent was still hanging in the void, completely ignored.

Under her breath, she let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

The thought crept in that Henry Shaw-brilliant airline captain, golden boy of the aviation world-had probably blocked her the moment she rejected him three years ago.

Rain hammered against the car roof. With a weary sigh, she pushed the door open, lifted her umbrella, and stepped into the downpour.

Halfway up the path to her building, her phone buzzed. Sean's name flashed across the screen. The moment she picked up, his irritated voice spilled out. "Irene, I already deleted that resignation letter. Do you have any idea how selfish you're being? Levi still needs tuition for his studies overseas, and Neil hasn't even scraped together enough to launch his business. Without Mr. Smith backing us, we're all doomed!"

Caiden's words from last night lingered in her chest, making her grip the phone tighter. She had fired off her resignation afterward without thinking-and she hadn't expected Sean to get to it first.

She steadied herself and laid it out for him. "Sean, the person Mr. Smith truly loves has come home, and the wedding's already in motion."

Her voice quivered, but her resolve didn't budge. "There was no way I was going to let myself become the other woman."

"Rena, I'm telling you this for your own good. You don't have the credentials or the pedigree, which is why staying with Mr. Smith is your best shot." The calm way Sean spoke didn't soften the impact; every line drove painfully into Irene's heart.

Shock snapped through her. Irene's eyes flew wide as she barked, "Sean, what the hell are you saying?"

He pushed right past her outrage. "This is just how the world treats women. Quit pushing back. Just stay with him and stop making this harder than it needs to be."

Then the line went dead, the abrupt click echoing like a slap.

As she stared at her phone, Irene breathed out a dry, cynical chuckle.

She wasn't trapped with Caiden solely because she cared for him-her entire family clung to her like parasites, gnawing at every scrap she earned.

Life had pressed her so thin that even the smallest flicker of warmth from Caiden had been enough to make her fall, despite knowing those gentle gestures were never meant for her in the first place.

A harsh snarl cut through the hallway. "So it's you, Irene... you ungrateful girl?"

The sudden voice jolted her. She spun around to find Tobias looming in the dim light, his clothes rumpled and his expression twisted with rage.

He had ruined himself with debt, nights at gambling tables, and bottles of cheap alcohol, leaving chaos wherever he went. The mess he created pushed his four kids to stay far away, avoiding him the way people dodge a disaster waiting to happen.

Never in her darkest thoughts had she expected to be the first one cornered by him.

Fear surged through her, and she instinctively bolted, but Tobias flung the empty bottle aside and lurched after her. He caught her by the arm with a bruising grip. "Where's your money? Give me every cent!"

"I don't have anything-let go!" Irene cried, twisting against him.

Her resistance only enraged him. Tobias fisted a handful of her hair and yanked hard. "Think you can run from me? If your mother hadn't risked her life for you, she wouldn't have died in that crash! You cursed girl-you owe me a wife, and you're paying me back!"

"What... what on earth are you talking about?" Irene queried, her voice trembling as confusion tightened her chest.

Her mother's death was the one wound Irene never touched, the grief buried deepest in her heart.

Caught in that surge of old grief, she didn't notice Tobias' hand darting in until he had already ripped her bag away. His other arm lifted, that big, calloused palm arcing toward her like a blow meant to split her cheek open.

Expecting the strike, Irene squeezed her eyes shut, breath hitching. But the hit never landed.

A strangled grunt reached her ears.

Irene blinked her eyes open and froze. Tobias hung in the air, pinned by the throat. A tall man had him by the neck, lifting him as if he weighed nothing.

His back blocked her view, broad shoulders wrapped in a fitted black coat, each line of him sharp and unforgiving. Long fingers dug into Tobias's windpipe, tendons standing out in stark relief, strength coiled beneath his pale skin.

Dressed head to toe in black, he carried a dark, suffocating aura that pressed down on everything around him.

Irene's pulse kicked hard against her ribs. When the man angled his head just enough for the light to catch his features, his face came into full view-clean-cut, arrestingly handsome, each line sharp as if carved with purpose. A pair of fierce brows framed a straight, elegant nose, but it was his eyes that stole the breath from her lungs-deep-set, narrowed slightly at the corners, carrying a chill so severe it felt like they sliced straight through the downpour and into her bones.

Sheets of rain blurred the world around her, turning everything into a watery smear. Everything except Henry.

His face remained impossibly clear in her vision, as though the storm itself parted just to keep him etched into her mind.

For a fleeting moment, Irene wondered if she had fallen into some surreal dream. Then Henry's voice-low and steady-cut through the rain. "Did you get hurt?"

The question snapped her back. She blinked, startled, and gave a small, quick shake of her head.

With a curt nod, Henry slid his hand off Tobias and let him drop, his expression tightening with blatant disgust.

Tobias clutched his twisted wrist. He was about to curse when he spotted a line of black-clad bodyguards storming toward them, their silhouettes slicing through the rain like an approaching wall.

Tobias stiffened, rage collapsing into panic. He backed away, stumbling as he spat out a hoarse threat over his shoulder. "You'll fucking pay for this! Just wait and see. I'll make you regret every second of it."

...

Irene still felt dazed even after stepping back into her tiny apartment with Henry.

The night had blurred into a surreal haze-had he really rushed over just because of that single message she had sent an hour earlier?

Once she murmured a stiff thank-you, an awkward quiet settled between them.

Anxious to escape it, she kept her gaze moving. When she caught sight of Henry standing there drenched, rain dripping from his sleeves, she blurted out that she would grab him a dry towel and practically fled toward the bathroom.

Henry lingered on her retreating silhouette for a few quiet seconds before his attention drifted to the room around him.

The modest apartment carried a soft, lived-in warmth, the kind that wrapped itself around a person with the ease of a whispered welcome-home.

A faint smile tugged at his mouth, unbidden, but it vanished the moment his eyes landed on a full row of nutrition books lining the shelf. His jaw tightened, and the curve of his lips flattened into a thin, unreadable line.

He stepped closer, narrowing his gaze as something tucked behind the books caught his eye. Wedged in the shadows were several well-worn medical journals and a yellowed stethoscope, its tubing curled like it had been forgotten yet never truly abandoned.

The quiet collection stood as a small but stubborn piece of Irene's long-buried dream.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Irene frantically sifted through the cabinets, terrified she had kept him waiting too long. She grabbed a fresh towel and hurried out, blurting, "Mr. Shaw, you-"

Her mouth snapped shut, the unfinished thought choking off while she halted in stunned stillness.

Henry stood there without a shirt.

Her gaze swept over him before she could stop herself-broad shoulders tapering into a tight waist, the ridges of his abs carved sharply beneath the light.

A quiet, magnetic heat radiated from him, a raw kind of masculinity that made her pulse skip.

Droplets of rainwater clung to his skin, sliding down each ridge of muscle before disappearing into the waistband of his dark suit pants. Her gaze followed one bead too long-far too low-before she jolted back to herself the moment his cool eyes flicked her way.

A flush rushed up her cheeks. She spun, instinctively trying to retreat, but Henry moved faster.

He stepped in, the wall pressing against her back as he braced a hand beside her, caging her in.

"What are you doing?" Irene's heartbeat thundered in her ears, her voice barely steady.

Before she could gather another word, Henry leaned in slightly, his tone low and unyielding. "Do you really want to marry me?"

Henry loomed over her, easily a head taller, his body caging her in until her gaze landed helplessly on the sharp line of his collarbone.

The intensity bearing down on her made breathing a struggle, forcing her voice into a fragile, pleading whisper. "Please... can we sit down and talk?"

His reply cut straight through her. "Not until you answer me."

She squeezed her eyes shut, wrestling with herself, then gave a small, tense nod-teeth clenched as if the motion pained her.

Escaping Caiden left her with no path except marrying Henry.

The instant she gave a subtle nod, Henry eased back, giving her room to breathe.

He crossed the living room with unhurried confidence, dropped onto the sofa bare-chested, and casually used the towel she had fetched to rake the dampness from his hair. The way he settled in-the quiet authority in every movement-made it feel as if he owned the place, not her.

Her pulse slowed, and her mind drifted unwillingly to their first encounter three years ago.

That evening, Caiden had dragged her to a business dinner. His company, the Smith Group, prepared to dip its toes into the aviation world. As a well-known airline captain, Henry got an invite.

Henry stepped into the venue in a gray-blue aviation uniform, the crisp fabric hinting he had come straight from a cockpit.

He carried himself with a cool, distant discipline, a quiet severity completely unlike the bare-chested, disarmingly sensual man sitting in her apartment now.

Throughout the dinner, Caiden kept trying to coax Henry into offering him a few lucrative leads, yet he thought little of Henry, speaking with the same kind of smug superiority.

Henry, refusing to rise to the bait, shut Caiden out completely and, instead, drifted toward Irene just before the event wrapped up, stopping beside her to quietly exchange contact details.

Worried that Caiden might take offense, Irene hesitated-but her devotion had always been so painfully self-effacing that Caiden viewed her as a loyal pet, someone too timid to ever look at another man.

He even nudged her closer to Henry, amused rather than threatened.

Later that night, Henry cast her a look laced with disappointment, as if he couldn't understand why she would let herself be treated that way.

They had already swapped contact information, and in the quiet that followed, Henry revealed the truth behind his approach-their mothers had been childhood friends who once arranged a future marriage between the two of them.

His mother, Abby Shaw, had grown frail over the years and had urged him to marry Irene quickly, hoping to pull her out of that toxic family.

Yet back then, Irene had clung stubbornly to her feelings for Caiden and rejected Henry without hesitation.

Confronting who she used to be, she could only recognize a gullible girl who didn't know any better.

A few minutes passed before a sharp knock echoed through the small apartment.

A man in a tailored suit stepped inside, carrying a neatly folded set of Henry's clothes along with a slim folder.

Irene instinctively assumed he was just another courier, but the formal suit made her blink in confusion.

Henry changed at a slow, deliberate pace and casually flicked the folder toward her.

Irene snapped back from her daze, her fingers brushing over the cover just long enough to realize it was a marriage contract.

Inside, the terms spelled out her role-she was to act as Henry's wife after they got married and keep Abby, still fragile and recovering, from knowing it was all an arrangement.

Henry, listed as the offeror, promised her a monthly compensation of two hundred thousand.

The figure made Irene's breath hitch, her eyebrows lifting in quiet disbelief.

Henry earned well as an airline captain-that much she knew-but offering such a steep monthly payment still felt excessive, even for him.

She instinctively wondered if he was doing this to reclaim the dignity Caiden had stripped from him years ago.

But she had never planned to take that kind of money, nor did she want Henry sinking into debt just to soothe an old bruise to his pride.

With that in mind, she straightened a little and spoke with quiet resolve. "I'm fine with everything else, but you don't need to pay me anything. Once we're married, I'll get a job and support myself."

The faint shift in Henry's expression chilled the air between them. His brows dipped, a shadow hardening his face as he listened.

When she noticed that change, Irene's heartbeat picked up. Was he... like Caiden? Would he also demand she stay home, trapped and dependent, forbidden from earning her own living?

Henry's quiet reply drifted over before she could gather her thoughts. "The money you earn belongs to you. It has nothing to do with what I'm giving you."

Irene flicked him a sidelong look, an amused breath slipping through her chest-men and their stubborn pride never changed.

He held her gaze without a hint of warmth. "Once we're married, contract or not, you'll be my wife."

His cool stare pinned her in place, and when he noticed she was gearing up to refuse again, his voice dipped even lower. "You'll need money. It's tough to get hired when you don't even have the right clothes for interviews, isn't it?"

The reminder made her glance down at her plain outfit, a crooked smile tugging at her lips.

A beat passed before she finally exhaled and made up her mind. She would take the money-for now-and give every cent back to Abby when the chance came.

Having finally gotten her reluctant nod, Henry pressed her to finish the marriage application forms, his tone leaving little room for hesitation.

Irene flipped through each page, her fingers trembling slightly as she complied.

Once the paperwork was done, Henry pushed himself to his feet, and she walked him to the door with quiet politeness.

"You're not coming with me?" he queried, a note of clear displeasure threading through his voice.

"So... soon?" Caught off guard, Irene blinked. She then added in a small voice, "I still have a few things I need to take care of."

A restrained grimace tugged at Henry's brow. "You have three days to wrap them up."

"Alright then," she replied softly, her gaze dropping.

Henry shot her a final, unreadable look before striding out of the apartment, his steps long and decisive.

With only three days to prepare, Irene didn't dare lose a second. By the next morning, she was already sorting and boxing up the things Caiden had once bought for her.

In the middle of her frantic work, the doorbell chimed.

A tall young woman stepped inside, introducing herself with brisk confidence as Kallie Todd-Henry's secretary, apparently dispatched to help with the move.

Sizing up Kallie's long legs and crisp, tailored coat, Irene found herself quietly wondering if airline captains normally kept secretaries on staff.

Her nerves strangled the question before it could form, so she mustered a small, polite smile and murmured, "Thank you."

The moment Kallie crossed the threshold, her nose wrinkled in blatant disapproval. "Miss Burton, your ex really didn't spend a dime on you, did he? All this stuff looks bargain-bin cheap."

Then, without waiting for Irene to recover, she clasped Irene's hand and steered her toward the door. "Come on, let's get you some proper things. If Mr. Shaw saw this pile of junk, he'd chew me out for letting it slide."

Caiden's gifts hadn't been extravagant, but they were solid, well-made pieces.

Still, hearing Kallie dismiss them as "junk" because Henry would supposedly sneer at them left Irene quietly stunned.

How did an airline captain's salary stretch far enough for something so over the top?

Was Henry once more hiding behind that carefully curated image? Doubt flickered through Irene, leaving her unconvinced.

Drawn along by Kallie's insistent grip, she let herself be ushered outside, and before long they were stepping into a gleaming mall entrance. Inside, a sudden jolt shot through her-just ahead stood two closely leaning figures she knew all too well: Caiden and Paulina, her wedding dress billowing around her.