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THE PILOT'S EX WIFE 169
- "I begged them to take me off the case, but I was the closest person to what happened. So I stepped up and did everything I could to end the ordeal. I even investigated the stores Mrs. Banks frequented," Spencer said melancholy, looking ahead as if he were reliving the moment.- "Why are you telling me this?" Blair gathered the strength to ask.- "Because you're not the first infiltrator. You're the third in five years. The others..." the older man didn't need to continue.Colton was surprised, feeling betrayed by the most honest person he had ever met. He didn't know half of that information, but he knew there was more that Spencer wouldn't reveal.- "Ethan Banks discovered the disguise before he even invited them to dinner," the inspector muttered.Spencer wasn't proud, much less remorseful. He was just a man telling the truth about his past. It wasn't about the investigation, his brother's death, or his duty to the state; it was about a friend revealing a part of himself before i
Last Updated : 2024-11-09THE PILOT'S EX WIFE 170
Alex, in turn, was efficient in opening his jacket and taking an envelope from the inside pocket. He placed it on his boss's desk, then began to speak:- "Since you were approached in the elevator, I've been thinking about possible connections between you and Volkov."- "And what did you discover?" Ethan asked, never showing emotion in his tone of voice.- "Before moving to Las Vegas, Blair Collins worked as an assistant to Inspector Valardes in the New York Police Department"Banks tore the seal off the envelope and opened it. By now his patience was at an end, not that he had much left after Carter. Ethan pulled out a few photographs, all of them of Blair. Blair at lunch with her old boss. Blair at the police department. Other pictures were of Blair on Malibu Island, in Ethan's office.- "That's not in her records," he rambled.- "It was purposely deleted"And as Ethan analyzed the photos one by one, he didn't even wonder how Alex had access to them. Because sometimes, not knowing w
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- "Does this conversation have a purpose? Because I am, in fact, hurt by my lying girlfriend. But we can talk about it over dinner, without an intermediary" he was sarcastic in his speech. And if it wasn't Ethan speaking, anyone could swear that his tone was playful.- "You know what I'm trying to do, Banks. We don't have to let this story get out of here."From a distance, Colton watched his boss and Banks talk. He couldn't hear, as he wasn't close enough, but he could see Ethan's expression, or lack thereof. The agent wasn't happy with this conversation. He was politically correct, and he liked to do things the way they were supposed to be done. This meeting in an abandoned warehouse, with no signs of security, didn't meet his standards.- "Don't worry, Spencer. You still don't have my attention," Ethan assured.- "What does that mean?"- "That I will not take your mistake into consideration"None of the men in that shed would be able to tell if Ethan was telling the truth or not. H
Last Updated : 2024-11-10THE PILOT'S EX WIFE 172
- "Hello, Carter. It's good to see you," Jean replied, but Blair remained silent. Not because she wasn't nice, but because she didn't know what to expect from that conversation.- "Ethan has been out of the country for the past few days," Carter commented nonchalantly, but the redhead knew he was trying to say as much as he could in front of Jean.- "I understand," she said.- "But he's back today, and I think he wants to talk to you," he prompted.Blair wasn't drinking from the glass of water on her desk, or she would have spit it all out on the linen tablecloth. The pessimistic part of her believed that Ethan had found out the truth the hard way. And it was that part that took over her body, so much so that she couldn't even respond.- "He can join us," Jean suggested, even though he realized that something wasn't going well in that little dialogue.- "Who knows," Carter muttered, then smiled and pushed away from the table.Jean was a smart man. He knew his daughter was involved wit
Last Updated : 2024-11-11THE PILOT'S EX WIFE 173
- "Well, I'll wait for you in the Bentley," Jean murmured, and Blair could only nod in agreement.Christopher led the way to the set of elevators to the east of the ballroom. And as she followed him, the redhead searched for a solution to rid herself of that feeling of loss ingrained in her mind, but she couldn't. How could she not have lost everything she had with Ethan, when the end was written in his every action?Blair tried to push the bitter thoughts out of her head as she stepped into the elevator and, with Ethan's employee, walked down to the parking lot. She knew she didn't have much time to sort things out, but she hoped she would have just one more day.They both got off at the ground floor in silence. The redhead walked behind Christopher, keeping a few steps away in case he changed his mind and decided to run back to the elevator.There were three cars in the large parking lot; two sports cars side by side in the far spaces, and a black SUV. And from the way the SUV was c
Last Updated : 2024-11-11THE PILOT'S EX WIFE 174
- "Ethan, I didn't have a choice," Blair snapped as soon as he finished speaking.Banks discovered who Blair really was, the lies she told and the truths she kept from telling. But in the process, she also discovered who Ethan was. And worse, what he did.- "You didn't have a choice? I had to give up an entire life and take on shit that wasn't mine, and you were the one who didn't have a choice?"- "I didn't know!" Blair cried, and at that moment it was impossible to stop the tears from rolling down her red face.Faced with the woman's emotion, Ethan was unmoved. He couldn't believe her, her reasons, her excuses. The only thing Ethan could guarantee was that Blair worked for the police.- "I didn't know," she repeated, this time in a whispered tone.Blair wanted to tell him the whole truth. She wanted to tell him that she helped Spencer because she could relate to his story. She wanted to tell him that she was too in love to just give him up on a silver platter. She wanted to tell him
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The guys in the pit stop are running towards my car. I can't hear them, but I know they're screaming like crazy. And I also know that the guys who came in second and third are very angry. On the track, being behind the best is like being the worst. Believe me, the only place that matters on the podium is the top.The sports car stops meters ahead of the finish line and, at that moment, euphoria hits me. Now I can feel the adrenaline in my veins. I can assure you that the feeling of a victory is always the same, it never changes or becomes common. It is always as if I were a god, and that has really boosted my ego.When I get out of the car, my team bombards me with jumping and screaming. I could jump with them, but my legs are still shaking. This is the only moment in life that makes me feel good, that makes me like who I am.- "Fuck, that was amazing!" Will screams.All I see around me are camera shots, people jumping in the stands, some drivers parking in their cockpits. All I hear
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Blair got out of the car in one swift movement, without even looking at her father. She ignored any attempts to say goodbye and headed toward the building, the weight of an exhausting day stamped on every dragging step she took.The doors to the building closed behind her, and the silence of the hall enveloped her for a moment. Stepping into the elevator, she let out a weary sigh, taking off her high-heeled shoes that felt like they weighed tons and leaving them on the floor beside her.Finally feeling a little freer, she unbuttoned the first few buttons of her dress, allowing the cool air to soothe her hot, tired skin. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather the strength to climb the rest of the way.“Ethan…” she sighed.Blair picked up her phone with trembling hands and, without hesitation, looked up Spencer's contact information. She pressed the call button, but the call did not even beep once before it dropped.She stared at the blank screen for a few seconds, feel
Last Updated : 2024-11-12
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There’s a pause, and in the silence I feel the weight of everything he’s not saying. The desperation of searching for someone the whole world said was lost. The crushing hope, followed by the crumbling, each time he thought he’d found me only to discover it was someone else. The pain of living between belief and resignation, over and over again.His fingers, still hovering in the air, finally move. They touch my face, light and hesitant, as if he fears I might disappear at any moment. The touch is warm, but his fingers tremble, and it breaks something inside me.He's trying to be strong, but he can't hide the vulnerability that pulsates beneath the surface."It's you now," he says, and the certainty in his voice is almost palpable. As if, after so long, he can finally breathe.He smiles, but the smile isn’t what I remember. It’s not confident or charming. It’s small, fragile, and so full of sadness that it stings my eyes.There's something devastating about seeing him like this. That
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My head moves slowly, against my will, as if an invisible thread were pulling me towards him. I don't want to look. I don't want to see. But fear and curiosity push me towards the inevitable realization that he is there, real, so close that even the air seems charged with his presence.My gaze first drops to the floor, to his shoes. A pair of casual sneakers, simple but they bring back memories that refuse to stay buried. Then my eyes move up to his legs. Black jeans, fitted, worn at the knees as if they’ve survived more than just time.My heart races, but I keep going. I glance down at his torso, noticing the dark sweater he’s wearing, elegant but in a casual way that only Ethan can pull off. He never had to try so hard to look… dangerous and attractive at the same time. He just was.It takes me longer than it should to look up at his face. As if my subconscious knew that this would be the point of no return. When I finally allow myself to look, I feel my heart almost stop.His beard
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BLAIR'S POVI walk quickly through the parking lot of the building, rummaging through my bag for my car keys. The dim light from the overhead lights creates shadows that dance on the floor, but my attention is completely focused on finding the keychain.If the traffic is okay today (a miracle, considering the time of day) I can still make it to school in time to pick up Miguel and take him home. He hates it when I'm late, and he doesn't spare me the frustrated look, but maybe I can make up for it with a pizza for dinner. That usually works.Finally, my fingers touch the cold metal of the key, and a relieved sigh escapes my lips. I continue walking, my thoughts already moving on to what Miguel might choose as a topping for the pizza this time… pepperoni, perhaps?But as I turn the corner where my car is parked, something makes the world around me slow down.There’s my car, exactly where it should be. But next to it, taking up my parking space, is a black SUV that immediately catches my
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"You were out of your mind that night." He looks at me now, his gaze a mixture of anger and pity. "And that's what happened. It was your car that hit her, Banks."The revelation hits me like a punch to the chest. “What?” I repeat, louder this time, my disbelief boiling over. “My car? Carter, my car?!” My voice rises, wavering between anger and desperation.“She would never feel safe with you again,” he says, his words cutting like knives. “After this, how could she?”My breathing quickens, and for a moment I feel like the world around me is falling apart. The air seems to escape my lungs, my mind in absolute chaos. Carter takes a step back, but I follow him, staring at him as if he’s the only thing still solid in my reality."What the fuck are you saying, Carter? My car…?" My voice breaks, begging for an answer I don't want to hear.I fall to my knees on the sidewalk, as if my legs can no longer support the weight of this revelation. My fingers tangle in my hair, pulling hard, as if t
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When I finally stop, my body is panting, my hands shaking from the impact. I look at Carter, who is on the ground, his face swollen and blood dripping from his lips.He doesn't move.He doesn't say anything.He just stands there, staring at me with a look of sadness, of regret.“I… I knew it,” he says, his voice weak.I don’t answer, I have no words. The anger that consumed me before fades, and in its place comes a deep emptiness, as if the world has lost all meaning. I stand, looking at Carter on the floor. Each breath feels harder, heavier.What do I do now?I feel my body weaken. My legs shake, and the pain in my hand from punching so much spreads through my body. I try to breathe, but the pressure in my chest won't go away. And the only thought that runs through my mind is the emptiness of knowing that Blair is still alive, and I don't know what to do with that.I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.Carter struggles to his feet, running a hand over his jaw with a paine
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I saw Blair. Or at least, I think I did. My mind no longer knows how to distinguish what is real from what is not. And while I stand there, lost in my own memories and hallucinations, Carter remains silent, his gaze fixed on me, unable to find words that could bring back what is already lost.He knows what's going on, but he doesn't know how to deal with it.He lowers his head, as if the very idea of saying the words is an unbearable weight. His voice is low, barely audible, but still, it seems to cut through the air between us, making everything around us disappear. "She's alive," he says, so quietly that for a moment I wonder if it's me, in my shattered sanity, who's imagining it all."What?" My voice is hoarse, a reflection of the disbelief that begins to take hold of me.He doesn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the floor, as if the words that just left his mouth were a condemnation. "You're not crazy, brother," he says with the same seriousness, but with a tone of regret. "Blair i
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The valet hesitates, looking at the now-gone car, and shakes his head, clearly confused. "I... I'm not sure. No one important, sir."Nobody important?“No,” I breathe deeply, trying to control the rising panic. “No, I know what I saw. She was important.” The emptiness of the street around me seems to grow, to swallow me. I no longer know if I’m speaking to him or to myself."Ethan!" Carter is behind me now, his voice full of concern and something else. He reaches out to me, taking my arm. "What are you doing? What's going on?"I look at him, my face tense, anger and fear mixed together. "She was here. She was here," I hiss, unsure if he'll understand the depth of what I'm saying."Who?" Carter asks, his voice low, full of confusion and concern.He cups my face in his hands, as if trying to check if I'm feverish, if my mind is somewhere far away. His fingers press against my skin, but I barely feel them."Blair," I whisper, almost as if my voice is a distant memory, an attempt to captu
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She finishes the glass in a single gulp, her gaze fixed on the horizon, as if she were losing herself in the lights of the city below. I follow her, drinking in her image, still immersed in my own thoughts."Good wines are not wasted," she murmurs with a seductive smile, her red lips almost provocative. The flirtation is clear, and for a moment, I find myself contemplating whether this is what I really want. But soon the answer comes silently: I am no longer the man who fell for this kind of game.When was the last time I was with a woman? The question resurfaces in my mind, and I know the answer. I know Blair was the last. There has never been another after her, despite the attempts, the distractions. No woman has been able to replace the space she left, not even for a moment. It grips me, swallows me, in a way I don't know how to escape."It's not wasted," I confirm, more to myself than to her. The sound of my own voice seems distant.The blonde steps forward, her plunging neckline
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“I’m developing a new sparkling wine brand,” says Cortez, a big-time alcoholic entrepreneur, in a tone of voice so enthusiastic that I almost feel guilty for not showing the slightest interest. “You know, I’m not new to the business. I thought we could do a campaign together. Something big.”I feign interest, crossing my arms and smiling, even though my mind has already begun to wander away from the conversation. “What were you thinking about?” I ask, my tone calculated with curiosity, so as not to seem disinterested.“Something you could incorporate into racing, you know?” Cortez continues, his voice growing even more animated. “Like, throwing champagne in the air when you win a race. That classic gesture, but with our own brand.” He smiles, pleased with the idea, as if he’s offering me a golden opportunity.I watch him intently for a few seconds, but soon I start to let his words fade into the background of my mind. He keeps babbling, but his words are like distant noises now. I'm n
