CHAPTER 1: The Seatbelt Sign Stayed On
"Take your hand off me," I whispered.
Brad only squeezed harder. His thick fingers dug into the dark fabric of my maternity trousers, locking down on the muscle just above my knee.
At thirty thousand feet, pinned against the reinforced acrylic of the window in seat 2A, there was nowhere to pull back. The First Class cabin of the Seattle-bound flight was supposed to be a perk, a reward for securing the quarterly logistics contract. Instead, the wide leather seat had become a trap. I was twenty-eight years old, six months pregnant, and completely boxed in by the managing partner of my firm.
"Keep your voice down, Maya," Brad murmured, his tone as casual as if we were discussing profit margins over coffee. "You’re making a scene."
I wasn't making a scene. I was barely breathing. I tried to twist my hips toward the aisle, but the heavy dividing console between our seats blocked my exit. Brad shifted his weight, pressing his broad shoulder against my arm, effectively shielding our lower halves from the rest of the cabin. With his free hand, he shook open the complimentary airline blanket and let it drape carelessly over our laps. Underneath the dark gray fleece, his grip slid two inches higher.
Panic spiked in my chest, tight and hot. I reached down under the blanket and dug my fingernails into his wrist. His skin was warm and damp. I expected him to flinch, to pull back in surprise or pain. He didn’t even blink. He just clamped his thumb down harder, finding the sensitive nerve in my thigh and pressing until a sharp, radiating ache shot down my leg.
I gasped, my eyes watering.
"Everything alright here, Mr. Sterling?"
I jerked my head up. The flight attendant was standing in the aisle, holding a silver tray with two glasses of sparkling water. She was looking right at Brad, a polite, practiced smile firmly in place.
"We’re doing perfectly, thank you, Sarah," Brad said. His voice was rich and steady. He offered her a warm, professional smile. "Though my associate here is feeling a little flight sickness. The altitude can be rough on expecting mothers. Could we get an extra ginger ale?"
"Of course," she said sympathetically, finally glancing at me. "Can I get you a cool towel, ma'am?"
I opened my mouth to speak. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her to get the captain, to get this man away from me. But underneath the blanket, Brad’s fingers suddenly dug upward, viciously tight, carrying a silent, agonizing threat. My career, my upcoming maternity leave, my entire financial stability rested on the performance review he was scheduled to file the moment we landed. He knew I was a single mother-to-be carrying a mortgage I could barely afford.
"No," I managed to choke out, forcing my hands to remain flat on my tray table. "Just the ginger ale. Thank you."
"Right away." The attendant moved down the aisle.
Brad exhaled a soft, satisfied breath. "See? We can be reasonable. You just need to relax and listen to what I’m offering."
"I don't want your offers," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Let go of me. Now."
"You don't even know what the offer is yet," he said. He leaned forward, reaching with his free hand to pull his leather briefcase from the floor space beneath the seat in front of him.
As he lifted the heavy bag, the brass latch caught on the armrest and popped open. The top flap fell back, exposing the neatly organized compartments inside. I kept my eyes fixed on the gap, trying to ignore the humiliating weight of his hand still anchored on my leg.
I expected to see our quarterly financial reports. I expected to see the Seattle contract we had just finalized.
Instead, sitting directly on top of his legal pads, was a thick manila envelope. The top corner was folded back, revealing a bright blue letterhead. I recognized that specific shade of blue immediately. It was the distinct, watermarked paper used by my private OB-GYN clinic back in Chicago. Beneath the letterhead, I could clearly read my full legal name, my date of birth, and the bold red stamp that read: CONFIDENTIAL - HIGH RISK PATIENT SUMMARY.