Private Service at 30,000 Feet - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading Private Service at 30,000 Feet, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of Private Service at 30,000 Feet.
The policewoman slammed down the receiver with a contemptuous smirk. "The case is airtight! Got any last words?"
The incessant ringing of the phone faded into white noise as my mind reeled—this wasn't how things were supposed to go down.
In sheer desperation, I threw myself at Mrs. Windsor's feet. "You know me! You know exactly who I am! I screwed up, please—just give me one chance!"
My pleading eyes found Dominic, banking on whatever scraps of affection might still linger between us.
His face drained of color as he shot a nervous glance at his wife. Then came the knife in my back: "She came onto me! Baby, I swear to God—"
"Out! Both of you!" Mrs. Windsor's designer heel cracked against the marble floor. "Papers will be filed by morning. Hope bankruptcy suits you!"
The slam of the door echoed like a gunshot.
Next thing I knew, handcuffs bit into my wrists.
Yet somehow, before the ink could dry on my mugshot, I walked free.
"Annie Langley. That's your real name, isn't it?"
Vincent Roscente's smirking face greeted me outside the precinct—my unlikely savior.
"Job offer's still open. Since you're officially unemployable in the aviation industry..." He grasped my hand with unsettling gentleness.
I choked back disbelief. "How the hell did you swing this?"
"Child's play. Though you might want to work on your evidence disposal." His fingers tightened like a vice. "Mistakes like that won't fly with me."
That predatory grin sent chills down my spine as he tilted my chin up.
"Burned every bridge I had to spring you. Better make it worth my while."
A bitter laugh escaped me as I shoved him away. "How noble, Mr. Roscente. Must've really pissed off some powerful people for little old me."
Suddenly, the parking lot erupted with shouting.
"Hands where we can see 'em, Vincent! Bet you didn't see this coming, huh?"
As they wrestled him into cuffs, a detective winked at me. "Good work, Langley. Taking down the biggest flesh-peddler on the East Coast? That's one hell of a get-out-of-jail-free card."
Through the squad car's grimy window, I locked eyes with Margaret Windsor in the backseat.
With a venomous smile, I formed the words slowly: One move left.
The incessant ringing of the phone faded into white noise as my mind reeled—this wasn't how things were supposed to go down.
In sheer desperation, I threw myself at Mrs. Windsor's feet. "You know me! You know exactly who I am! I screwed up, please—just give me one chance!"
My pleading eyes found Dominic, banking on whatever scraps of affection might still linger between us.
His face drained of color as he shot a nervous glance at his wife. Then came the knife in my back: "She came onto me! Baby, I swear to God—"
"Out! Both of you!" Mrs. Windsor's designer heel cracked against the marble floor. "Papers will be filed by morning. Hope bankruptcy suits you!"
The slam of the door echoed like a gunshot.
Next thing I knew, handcuffs bit into my wrists.
Yet somehow, before the ink could dry on my mugshot, I walked free.
"Annie Langley. That's your real name, isn't it?"
Vincent Roscente's smirking face greeted me outside the precinct—my unlikely savior.
"Job offer's still open. Since you're officially unemployable in the aviation industry..." He grasped my hand with unsettling gentleness.
I choked back disbelief. "How the hell did you swing this?"
"Child's play. Though you might want to work on your evidence disposal." His fingers tightened like a vice. "Mistakes like that won't fly with me."
That predatory grin sent chills down my spine as he tilted my chin up.
"Burned every bridge I had to spring you. Better make it worth my while."
A bitter laugh escaped me as I shoved him away. "How noble, Mr. Roscente. Must've really pissed off some powerful people for little old me."
Suddenly, the parking lot erupted with shouting.
"Hands where we can see 'em, Vincent! Bet you didn't see this coming, huh?"
As they wrestled him into cuffs, a detective winked at me. "Good work, Langley. Taking down the biggest flesh-peddler on the East Coast? That's one hell of a get-out-of-jail-free card."
Through the squad car's grimy window, I locked eyes with Margaret Windsor in the backseat.
With a venomous smile, I formed the words slowly: One move left.
End of Private Service at 30,000 Feet Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to Private Service at 30,000 Feet book page.