Sinful Corruption (A Mayet Justice Book Book 14) by Emilia Finn

Author:Emilia Finn [Finn, Emilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beelieve Publishing, Pty Ltd
Published: 2024-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

MINKA

Flying east means losing daylight hours. It means even if it’s still sunny in Copeland, New York City lights shine up from beneath the plane. The Rockefeller glistens and the Empire State Building stands proud. What were once the twin towers, is now something else. But the space glows, and taxi lights create a long, constant stream in every direction.

The pilot is skilled in their work. Smooth in their descent. So despite the smaller aircraft, apt to feel every bump and movement the skyline has to offer, this one brings us toward JFK without a single hitch that would, inevitably, make my stomach drop.

They have the wheels touching down with barely a bump, and soon after, the plane taxiing to whatever gate private planes use.

I took my rings—wedding and engagement—off the chain hung around my neck somewhere over Minnesota, so now they sit on my finger, providing me something to fidget with as the plane comes to a stop and the hostess paid to feed and water me unbuckles her seat belt and makes fast work of preparing the cabin for disembarking.

She grabs my bags and hands them off to the guard whose eyes, I’m certain, haven’t left me since we took off. His firm, square jaw is tight with purpose. His guns—I know he carries multiple—within easy reach, and yet, tucked away so I don’t have to see them.

He’s been tasked, whether by Felix, or possibly Archer, to be my security for this flight, and he’s a man who obviously takes his job extremely seriously.

A for effort.

“Doctor Mayet?” The hostess, blinding smile and perfect hair—a little like Fifi—comes to a stop beside my chair, carrying my briefcase in one hand. “You can disembark at your leisure.” She beams when the guard opens the plane’s door, as though his actions prove her point. “Mr. Malone has a car waiting for you outside. And Michaels,” she gestures to the watchful guard, “will ride with you the whole way. I sincerely hope your flight has been an enjoyable one.”

Flying is flying and planes in the air are far superior to planes smushed against the side of a mountain. So by those standards… “It was enjoyable. Thank you.” I release my seat belt and push up from the insanely comfortable chair, nothing like those on a commercial plane. No one’s elbows bumped mine. No one’s foot encroached on my personal space. Wondrously, no one smelled like onions, and though alcohol was offered and declined, the gesture was appreciated far more than the standard ‘peanuts or pretzels?’

Accepting my briefcase, I pull the long strap from its confines and drape the bag over my shoulder, freeing up my hands, then I step into the aisle—if an aisle is the correct word, when there aren’t rows and rows of seats to wander through—and make a beeline for my duffel. I reach out for it, intending to hang it from the crook of my arm, but of course, Michaels shakes his head and firms his grip on the straps.

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