Chapter 109: Like A Fly

Emerald’s POV

Michael:Welcome back.

A smile came to my lips.

Michael:How was your flight?

Another message appeared before I could answer.

Michael:Have you eaten anything yet?

I shook my head slightly, amused by how quickly he had moved from welcoming me back to checking whether I had eaten.

Me:Thank you. The flight was smooth.

I added another message.

Me:And no, I haven’t eaten anything.

I looked toward the refrigerator I had just cleaned.

There was nothing inside.

A thought occurred to me, and before I could reconsider it, I typed another message.

Me:Could you send me a portion from your dinner tonight?

His response came shortly afterwards. He sent a laughing emoji.

I smiled. Then another message followed.

Michael:I’m in L.A. for business. I’ll be back soon.

I read the message before another one appeared.

Michael:Don’t bother trying to cook tonight. Order takeout.

I smiled again.

Me:All right. Thank you.

After a moment, I added:

Me:Hope your business goes well.

Michael:It will.

I was about to put my phone down when I noticed several notifications waiting at the top of the screen.

One of them caught my attention immediately.

There had been an update on the private jet crash I had read about that morning. I opened it. The new headline made me sit up.

JET CRASH KILLS FIFTEEN, INCLUDING MEMBERS OF SEVERAL PROMINENT FAMILIES.

My heart skipped a beat. I began reading.

The article contained considerably more information than the report I had seen earlier. Authorities had now released the identities of everyone who had been aboard the aircraft.

I examined the names carefully, pausing as I recognized each one—first one, then another, and then another.

Most of the names were familiar to me. Some belonged to people I had encountered through my family’s social and business circles.

The Hugo family had maintained relationships with several of the families mentioned in the report for years.

I continued reading.

Four of the passengers were patriarchs and matriarchs of prominent wealthy families. Others were senior members responsible for managing their respective family businesses.

Several held executive positions within companies owned or controlled by their families.

These were not ordinary passengers.

They were people whose deaths would affect considerably more than their immediate families.

I scrolled back to the beginning of the article and read it again.

According to the report, the passengers had gathered in Chicago for a private business-related meeting.

Afterwards, they had boarded the aircraft together. Their destination was Washington, but they never made it there.

The aircraft had suffered what authorities were describing as an engine failure before crashing. All fifteen people on board had died.

I stared at the list of names. The coincidence was unsettling.

I had seen the original report only hours ago and thought it was simply another tragic accident. Now I was looking at the names of people I knew.

People from families the Hugos had dealt with. People who had influence. People who had businesses, reputations, and responsibilities that would now fall onto other members of their families.

I continued scrolling through the article, reading every detail the journalists had managed to gather.

The investigation into the crash was still underway, and authorities had not yet released a definitive explanation for what caused the engines to fail.

I lowered my phone slightly. Something about the whole thing felt strange. Maybe it was simply because I recognised so many of the names, or that the timing made it feel more significant than it actually was.

I did not know.

I looked at the screen once more. The fifteen people had boarded a private jet in Chicago. None of them had reached Washington, including the flight crew.

And now several powerful families were facing the sudden loss of people who had been central to their lives and businesses.

I stayed still for a few seconds before locking my phone. Whatever the explanation turned out to be, it was a terrible tragedy.

I placed the phone on the bed. Then I remembered that I still had to order dinner.

═════ ❖ 🐺 ❖ ═════

The next morning, I arrived at the lecture hall a few minutes before the class began.

Elias was already there.

He was sitting in the seat beside the one I usually took, and the moment he noticed me, his face brightened.

He stood as I approached. "Emerald."

I barely had time to stop beside the desk before he pulled me into a hug. I froze. I had not expected it.

I let my arms hang at my sides while he held me for a moment before releasing me.

"I’m sorry about your cousin," he said sincerely. "I wanted to call after the funeral, but I wasn’t sure of when you would be back."

Thank you." I nodded slightly and took my seat.

He sat beside me. "How are you feeling?"

"I’m fine," I answered.

He studied my face for a moment. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he asked about the funeral.

"It went well."

There was not much else I wanted to say about it. As he kept talking, I noticed something else. His scent.

I had become familiar enough with Elias’s usual perfume to recognize it without thinking. The scent was back to normal.

The difference was subtle, but I noticed it.

I wondered if he had simply gone back to his usual perfume, or if he hadn’t been around other women during the days I was away.

The thought came and went. I did not dwell on it.

"Emerald?"

I turned toward him. He was smiling. "What?" I asked.

"I said I missed you."

My lips twitched.

"I was miserable while you were gone," he continued. "Now that you’re back, I finally feel like my heart is at peace."

I almost scoffed. Then he reached for my hand. Before I could ask what he was doing, he took it and started guiding it toward his chest.

I immediately pulled my hand away and swatted his hand aside.

"Don’t."

He blinked, then he laughed. "What?" he asked.

"You don’t need to prove that your heart is beating."

His smile widened. "I wasn’t trying to prove that."

"Whatever you were trying to do, don’t do it again."

He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "All right."

I turned toward the front of the lecture hall as more students began taking their seats.

At least he listened. Most of the time.