Chapter 7

Julian POV

In the VIP room of St. Jude's Hospital in New York.

I was sitting by Sienna's bedside, peeling an apple for her, when the TV on the wall suddenly broke into a breaking news broadcast:

"We have breaking news. Flight MU789, bound for the Middle East from JFK, crashed into the Atlantic Ocean forty minutes after takeoff due to extreme weather. All 150 passengers and crew members on board are confirmed dead..."

Drop.

The apple slipped from my hand. The sharp knife sliced across my finger, and blood began to pour, but I didn't feel a thing.

Flight MU789...

That was the exact flight I had booked for Valerie!

"All confirmed dead..."

I stared blankly at the cold numbers on the screen. My brain exploded, and the blood in my veins completely froze.

Drip, drip...

Blood dripped from my finger onto the white floor tiles, but I felt absolutely no pain.

"All confirmed dead..."

The words replayed in my mind like a rusty saw cutting through my skull. I stood up abruptly, but my legs gave out, and I fell hard to my knees.

"No, it's not possible!"

I scrambled back to my feet like a lunatic. Ignoring my coat, I stumbled out of the room.

Sienna gasped in shock, grabbing my sleeve. "Julian, where are you going? My hand is still hurting..."

"Get off me!" I yelled with bloodshot eyes, shoving her away so hard she tumbled onto the floor. I didn't even look back as I bolted toward the parking garage.

I pushed my Maybach to its absolute limit on the highway, running dozens of red lights. The tires screeched violently as I slammed on the brakes in front of the airline's headquarters.

I stormed into the lobby, grabbing the manager by his collar. My voice was raspy, like sandpaper. "Give me the passenger manifest for Flight MU789! Now!"

The manager trembled violently, pulling up the system. "M-Mr. Vance... Valerie Miller, her coach, and Felix... they are all on the list. They all boarded the plane..."

Boom.

The last string of sanity in my mind snapped.

My hands lost all strength, and I stumbled back, my tall frame shaking violently.

It was me.

I was the one who bought those tickets. I was the one who threw them in her face. I was the one who forced her onto that death flight!

"Julian, in this life, I have paid back everything I owed you."

Valerie's calm, dead eyes before she left flashed in my mind. She hadn't cried. She hadn't fought back. Because she had already decided to die!

"Valerie..." I clutched my chest. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, making it impossible to breathe. I bent over, letting out a desperate, guttural scream. "Ahhh!"

That night, I deployed all of the Vance family's private jets and rescue teams to search the crash site.

For two solid weeks.

I searched the debris-filled ocean like a madman, refusing to sleep. I watched as bloated, unrecognizable bodies were pulled from the water. Every time they pulled back a white sheet, my soul died a little more.

But Valerie was never found.

The rescue captain sighed, walking up to me. My eyes were sunken, and my face was covered in rough stubble. "Mr. Vance, let it go. With an explosion of that magnitude, most of them were... vaporized. There wouldn't even be ashes left."

Vaporized.

Not even ashes left.

My body went rigid, and I collapsed onto the deck.