I never thought I’d be sitting in a sterile, white hospital room, watching Adrian—usually the composed, confident billionaire CEO—look so fragile. It had been a few hours since we landed, and I still couldn’t shake the tension in the air. We hadn’t spoken much on the flight here, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The weight of the news about his mother’s sudden illness had hit us like a freight train. Adrian’s mother had always been a figure in his life, a woman who seemed untouchable. Strong. Independent. Never someone to worry about. But now, sitting in this hospital room, the sound of machines beeping rhythmically beside us, she looked different. Frail. Vulnerable. She was resting, her face pale against the white sheets. Adrian had insisted we fly here as soon as possible, and I had followed his lead. I watched him closely as he stood by her bed, his hand clasping hers, his face strained with emotion. I had never seen him so vulnerable, so unsure of himself. "I should've call
The air between us had felt thick for days. Adrian and I had become experts at pretending everything was fine, but neither of us could ignore the undercurrent of tension that had settled in our relationship ever since the rumors started swirling about Adrian’s company. The accusations were just that—rumors. But still, they hung over us like a storm cloud, threatening to rain down on everything we had built. It wasn’t the whispers or the scandal itself that was tearing at me, though—it was the distance between us. Adrian was fighting for his reputation, for his company, for everything he had worked so hard to build. But what about us? What about me? Was I still a priority, or was I just another person in the background of his whirlwind life? I never thought I’d question his loyalty, but these days, everything felt up in the air. And it scared me. When Adrian came home that evening, he looked drained, as if the weight of the world was sitting squarely on his shoulders. I had gotten
The weight of the world rested on my shoulders. Or at least, that’s how it felt these days. Every morning, I woke up to the endless emails, conference calls, and decisions that had come with my unexpected promotion to CEO. The days blurred together, each one an unending cycle of deadlines and expectations. I loved what I did—don’t get me wrong. I had worked hard to get here, but somewhere between managing a company and balancing my personal life, I had lost sight of something important: myself. In the beginning, everything had felt thrilling. A sense of power, of accomplishment, flooded me every time I took the reins in the boardroom. But as the days wore on, I began to feel overwhelmed, stretched too thin, and disconnected from the woman I used to be. The ambitious, creative woman who had once painted for hours on end, completely immersed in the colors and the brushstrokes, lost in a world of her own creation. That woman seemed so distant now, like a memory from another life. It wa
It’s funny how time seems to fly when you’re caught up in the whirlwind of life. I couldn’t believe it had been a year since Adrian and I had married. The days had passed in a blur, filled with successes, challenges, growth, and moments of undeniable joy. The love we shared had only deepened, evolving in ways I hadn’t expected, and yet, as our first anniversary approached, I found myself reflecting on how much I had changed in this year. Not just as a wife, but as a person, as an artist, as someone who was rediscovering herself. Adrian had been nothing short of amazing throughout everything. He had stood by me when I’d been uncertain, supported me through the chaos of my new role as CEO, and had encouraged me to reconnect with my art. I had never imagined that I would have the courage to pick up a paintbrush again, and yet here I was, feeling more fulfilled and connected to who I was than I had in years. But I also knew that Adrian had played a big role in that. His support, his beli
There’s something about moments of calm that feel almost surreal. After everything Adrian and I had been through—the whirlwind of starting a life together, the challenges that seemed to come out of nowhere, the ups and downs—we finally found ourselves here, sitting on the balcony of our new home, looking out at the city that had been our backdrop for so long. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the skyline, and I could feel the peace of the moment settling over me. The world outside seemed to be moving at its usual pace, but in that moment, everything felt still. I leaned back in my chair, letting the cool evening breeze kiss my skin. Adrian sat beside me, his hand resting on my knee, the weight of his presence grounding me. There was something incredibly reassuring about the way he was there—steady, calm, and unwavering. I thought about everything we’d been through. The distance between our worlds—his billionaire CEO life and my job as a flight attendant. The way
I should’ve known that life has a way of throwing curveballs, especially when you start to feel like you’ve finally found your footing. It was just a few weeks ago that Adrian and I were sitting on the balcony of our new home, dreaming about the future, talking about starting a family, and savoring the quiet, peaceful moments that seemed to define this chapter of our lives. But just like that, everything changed.It started with a call late one night. I was already in bed, exhausted from a long shift, my mind on the painting I’d been working on earlier. I was just about to drift off to sleep when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I groaned, reaching for it, thinking it was just another one of those late-night messages I’d get from a fellow flight attendant. But when I saw Adrian’s name on the screen, my heart skipped a beat.I quickly answered the call, my voice thick with sleep. "Adrian? What’s going on?"His voice was strained, not his usual confident, calm tone. "Isla, we need to
I never imagined that I’d be caught in the middle of a corporate war. As a flight attendant, my life was supposed to be about long-haul flights, jetting off to new cities, and occasionally catching a glimpse of the world’s most glamorous spots. But that was before Adrian.Before I ever stepped into the world of billion-dollar deals and high-stakes business.Now, as I watched the relentless march of time closing in on us, I realized that life was no longer about long weekends or quiet nights at home. It was about survival. Survival of the company Adrian had spent his entire life building, and the survival of everything that had come to define us—our relationship, our dreams, our future.The takeover attempt, which had begun as a whisper, was now a full-blown corporate war. Adrian’s company was under attack, and the rival firm was playing dirty. They were using every possible tactic to discredit Adrian, from leaking false information to the media to launching smear campaigns targeting h
It’s funny how you can go through life chasing something, thinking it’s the thing that will make you happy—only to realize, when everything falls apart, that the very thing you were after isn’t the key to your happiness at all. I never thought I would be here, sitting in the stillness of our living room, the faint hum of the city outside the window my only companion. Adrian was in his office, surrounded by the world that defined him, but even from here, I could feel the weight on his shoulders, the pressure that had been building ever since the hostile takeover started.I sat back in my chair, taking in the soft glow of the evening, the rich colors of the sunset filtering through the windows. The peace that filled the space around me was almost jarring compared to the chaos of the past few weeks. Everything had been happening so fast—so intensely—that I hadn’t even taken the time to breathe. To think.The past few days had felt like a blur of meetings, late nights, and arguments. Ther
The soft hum of the city outside our apartment had always been a kind of comfort. It was a steady pulse, a reminder that life was always moving, no matter what. But tonight, in the quiet of our little world, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change. Adrian and I had been through so much already. The whirlwind of our relationship, the ups and downs, the unexpected twists and turns that life always seems to throw at us. And now, here we were—sitting side by side on the balcony of our home, wrapped in the warmth of the evening air, watching as the city lights flickered like tiny stars beneath us. I looked at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights below, and my heart did that familiar flip it always did when I thought of how much he meant to me. Adrian Blackwell, the man who had come into my life when I least expected it, but exactly when I needed him the most. And now, we were here, building something together that felt bigger than jus
Turbulence is one of those things you can’t predict, and no matter how experienced you are, it never quite loses its ability to unsettle everyone. It’s a routine challenge we face on almost every flight, but each time it happens, it’s different. The severity, the length, the reactions of passengers—it’s always a unique experience. But no matter what, it’s my job to stay calm and handle the situation with as much grace as I can. I remember one flight in particular that stands out in my mind. It was a late evening flight, and the sky looked calm as we ascended into the clouds. The passengers were quiet, probably already beginning to settle in for the night. I’d made my rounds, offered snacks and drinks, and was just about to start my routine check when it happened—an unexpected jolt, followed by a few more. The plane began to dip and sway with turbulence so severe that the seatbelt sign stayed on for nearly the entire trip. I’ve been through my fair share of bumpy flights, but this on
As a flight attendant, I’ve seen it all: the joys of a smooth flight, the turbulence that leaves everyone clutching their armrests, and the occasional drama that unfolds when a passenger realizes their luggage has been lost. It's not something that ever seems catastrophic at the time, but it can easily sour someone's day, especially after they've just endured a long, exhausting flight. And trust me, I can totally relate. There’s nothing worse than stepping off a plane, already drained, only to be told that your bags didn't make it. It’s enough to make anyone's mood take a nosedive. But here's the thing: when something goes wrong, it’s up to me—and my fellow crew members—to make sure that passengers feel like they’re not alone in dealing with it. We may not be able to solve every issue immediately, but we can make sure they feel heard and taken care of, which, in my experience, makes all the difference. And in the case of lost luggage, empathy and support can go a long way in turning
A few months ago, I found myself in the midst of one of the most intense situations I’ve ever experienced in my career as a flight attendant. We were cruising at 35,000 feet, just over the Atlantic, when it happened. A medical emergency on a flight isn’t something you ever expect to happen, but when it does, your training kicks in, and the stakes are as high as they can possibly get. The cabin was relatively quiet, passengers settling in for the long haul, when I noticed a woman slumped in her seat, her head resting at an unnatural angle against the window. At first, I thought she was just tired, maybe a bit too drowsy from a long day of travel. But then I saw it—the way her body was limp, the faintness in her complexion. Her lips were pale, her eyes closed, and her hands—clutched in her lap—were completely still. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right. My heart rate picked up, and the immediate reaction was instinctive, though I had trained for this very moment. I rushed over,
As a flight attendant, it’s not uncommon for me to encounter passengers who are terrified of flying. It’s one of the more delicate parts of my job, navigating the turbulence of a flight while also soothing the turbulence within a nervous passenger’s mind. But it’s not always as simple as just offering a warm smile or a soft word. Fear can be a very real, very palpable thing for some people, and it takes more than a friendly gesture to ease their anxiety. I’ve always had a knack for calming people down, a quiet ability to be still and present in moments of panic. It’s something I learned over the years, not just from training, but from observing people, reading their body language, and understanding the emotions beneath the surface. Every day I work with people who are on edge in one way or another—some from the stress of travel, others from the uncertainty of what lies ahead. But then there are those who board a plane with a knot in their stomach, a deep-rooted fear that they just ca
The day has arrived. Our wedding day. The day I’ve imagined in so many different ways, but never quite like this. Every moment feels like a dream, something I’ve been waiting for my entire life. But as I stand here, looking out over the small crowd of our closest family and friends, I know this is real. This is our reality. Adrian and I, finally tying the knot, surrounded by the people who have supported us throughout our journey. The morning has been a whirlwind of activity, with the last-minute preparations coming together as if by magic. The sounds of laughter, the soft hum of music in the background, and the gentle rush of excitement in the air make everything feel so surreal. But in the midst of it all, I’m calm. At peace. This is where I’m meant to be, with the man I love, about to start the rest of our lives together. I’m standing in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, when I hear the soft knock on the door. “Isla?” Adrian’s voice is muffled through the wood, and I can f
It’s hard to believe that the day is almost here. The wedding day. The one we’ve been planning for months, the one I thought would never come. In a way, it feels surreal, like I’m living in a dream. But this isn’t a dream; this is my reality. Adrian and I are about to marry each other, and not only that, we’re about to become parents. It’s a lot to process, especially when you’re the one who’s carrying the child. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a different version of myself. A woman who’s about to step into a new chapter. A wife. A mother. The weight of that is something I’ve never quite been prepared for, and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once. The days leading up to the wedding have been a whirlwind, just like everything in our lives. Adrian’s schedule has been as busy as ever, but he’s made it clear that this is a priority for him. For us. Even with the constant phone calls, meetings, and deadlines that come with being the CEO of Blackwell Enterprises, he’s
It wasn’t until I held the positive pregnancy test in my hands that everything shifted. For so long, Adrian and I had lived in a whirlwind—his demanding position as the CEO of Blackwell Enterprises, my career as a flight attendant, the constant ebb and flow of responsibilities, deadlines, and travels. I suppose I always assumed we would have time to plan our wedding properly, to do it the way we wanted, but somewhere along the way, life had gotten in the way. What started as a simple promise to have an intimate ceremony had been put on hold, again and again, until it felt like something that could wait forever.But now, with a baby on the way, the sense of urgency was there. Not in a panicked way, but in the way you realize something matters deeply—more than anything else—and it’s time to make it a priority. We were preparing to become parents, to create a life together, and that meant honoring our commitment to one another in the most personal, meaningful way we could.It was Adrian’
The morning began like any other. The soft light filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room. I woke up to the familiar sound of Adrian’s breathing beside me, his arm draped over my waist. It was a peaceful moment, one I had grown to cherish more and more lately. Things had shifted between us, in a way that felt like we were growing into a new phase of our lives—one where we had learned to lean on each other, not just in the face of challenges, but in moments of calm as well.But that morning, as I stretched and turned toward Adrian to kiss him awake, something felt different. There was a flutter in my chest, a tightness in my stomach that I couldn’t quite place. I had been feeling it for days now—this strange mix of unease and excitement. My body felt different, my energy levels had dipped, and the nausea had been more persistent than usual. I thought I might be getting sick, but there was something inside of me that whispered it could be more than that.As I lay