Page 40 of Mile High Heist

She turned on Julie and me with a pointed look. “You two will work twice as hard at keeping them happy. You will be polite. You will give them whatever they want.” Her eyes daggered on Julie. “You will not make jokes or be disrespectful to the poor deceased man in any way. Is that understood?”

Julie’s nostrils flared slightly, but her voice remained calm. “Understood.”

The plane gave a commiserating jolt.

“Go,” Lucille snapped, waving us into motion.

The cabins looked gloomier than ever. The sun was setting, leaving behind a dismal grey-blue light. The glare of screens only highlighted the snarling faces of the passengers, like neon gargoyles.

Marcus was right. The lawyers weren’t just angry—they were downright riotous.

Barely a half hour later, I was being overrun with complaints.

“Miss? Hello?” A hand shot out in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.

My fake smile made my cheeks hurt. “How can I help you, sir?”

The man jabbed his finger at his laptop and his many, many windows. “I’m having issues with the Wi-Fi.”

He wasn’t the only one.

The universe decided to kick the hornet's nest and cut off the Wi-Fi and phone signal, like the lawyers weren’t already on the verge of mutinying. Lucille was running around like a headless chicken trying to fix it.

Meanwhile, I was busy searching every passenger for the watch. It meant getting closer to them than I liked, especially after what happened in the bathroom.

Most of them probably thought I was some overeager gold digger, checking out their accessories for my next conquest. The old-Olivia might’ve been embarrassed by that. The new and significantly more traumatized version of me couldn’t care less.

“We’re looking into the Wi-Fi, sir,” I reassured him. Then I leaned in a bit closer, subtly eyeing his watch. It was the right brand, the wrong model. “Would you like something to drink in the meantime?”

He blinked at my closeness, a flush spreading up his neck. “I—uh, yes.”

I was slipping into the galley for a much-needed break when the bathroom door snapped open, and a hand grabbed me. In a blink, I was yanked inside. A rough hand slammed over my mouth, trapping my scream.

No way this was happening to me again!

But then I recognized the man who grabbed me, the callouses on his palm, and the furious storm in his Nordic blue eyes.

Jax.

My shoulders dipped in relief. I reached up and pulled his hand away. “What—”

Someone moved behind me.

I froze when I felt a chest against my back. Suddenly, I was pinned between two hard bodies. Jax was at my front, staring down at me with a furious expression. Which meant that the man at my back was his deadly enforcer.

A girl couldn’t catch a break.

“Now,” Jax said.

But he wasn’t talking to me.

A cold hand came up, wrapping around my throat. I struggled instinctively. A dry voice ghosted over my ear: “Now, now. Don’t make me snap that pretty neck.”

Madoc would do it. I knew he would.

We’d been in this position before.

Jax stepped forward, pinning me harder against Madoc. I felt every inch of him, and it was bad.