Ashley's POV :
The purser sealed the aircraft door with a final, decisive whoosh. It was such a small sound—metal meeting metal—but to me, it was the universe exhaling.
The monstrous rage of the world outside, of him, was locked away. The engines roared, the floor trembled, and we began to rise.
For the first time in what felt like centuries, the noise wasn't terrifying—it was reassuring. We were leaving the darkness behind.
When they guided me into the wide first-class seat, I sank into it as though it were the earth itself, soft and solid, holding me up after the storm.
My mother didn't just embrace me; she enfolded me. Her arms were a shelter, her heartbeat the rhythm I'd been reaching for in every nightmare. "We're safe, Ashley," she whispered, her voice trembling with both joy and disbelief. "We're truly safe now."
Her perfume was familiar—something floral and clean—and it made my chest ache with memories of better times.
I wanted to stay there forever, breathing her in, reminding myself that this was real.
Then my father appeared, quiet and unsteady in a way I'd never seen.
The man who could command rooms, sign deals, and stare down monsters looked like a tired human being now—vulnerable, but alive.
He crouched beside me, his hand trembling slightly as it brushed my knee.
"He's behind us," he said softly. "It's over, sweetheart. Roman saw what he couldn't destroy—the strength of this family—and he broke against it."
He said it so gently, not triumphant, not gloating—just tired.
But that weariness carried peace, and that peace wrapped around my bruised heart like sunlight breaking through a storm.
I reached up, fingertips grazing the tender skin beneath my ear, the mark that once screamed possession.
It felt... distant now.
Like touching a scar from another lifetime.
For the first time, I could breathe without that shadow pressing down on me.
I was no longer someone's captive—I was someone's child.
My mother cupped my face, her eyes shimmering like they'd been holding back oceans. "Ashley, honey," she breathed, voice breaking. "Are you okay? Don't think about him. Just—talk to me. Let me hear you say you're all right."
I took a deep breath, feeling the steady thrum of the engines like a lullaby. "I'm okay, Mom," I whispered. "I'm so tired, but I'm free. I love you both… more than anything."
My father placed his hand over hers, their touch warm and solid on my cheek. "We did this for you," he said, his voice raw. "Every sleepless night, every secret plan—it was all to bring you home. We're not just escaping, Ashley. We're rebuilding. A new life. A real one. And you won't have to start it alone."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, encrypted satellite phone. "I just spoke to him," he said softly. "Daniel made it out. He left hours before us, securing everything. He's waiting."
The sound of my brother's name cracked something open inside me. My heart pounded—hard and fast, but for once, not out of fear. "Daniel?" I breathed. "He's… safe?"
My father smiled, a slow, weary, luminous thing. "He's safe—and he's ours. He refused to go without knowing you were free. Said he wouldn't let his sister face the unknown alone." His voice trembled. "He's already there, waiting for us. We're whole again, Ashley. All of us."
My mother's lips pressed to my forehead. "It's time to heal now, sweetheart. No more running. Just… living. Daniel will be the first face you see when we land."
A fragile laugh slipped through me, small and shaky but real. "He'll probably tease me for sleeping through half the flight."
My father chuckled, that sound—rare and gentle—filling the quiet cabin. "Good. You both deserve normal teasing again. No more codes, no more hiding. Just family."
I looked between them—these two exhausted, extraordinary people—and saw in their eyes all the pain, all the sacrifice, and all the unbreakable love that had carried me out of hell. "I understand," I said, and for once, I meant it completely. "I just want to be with you. To be home."
My father nodded, helping my mother to her feet. "Then rest, my girl. We'll talk to the pilot about our ETA. It's over. Your new life begins now."
As they stepped away, the cabin lights dimmed, bathing everything in a soft amber glow.
I leaned against the cool glass, the hum of the engines cradling me like a lullaby.
Outside, the sky stretched endless and dark, but for the first time, it looked beautiful.
There was no fear in the blackness now—just the promise of distance, the quiet hymn of escape.
Roman was somewhere down there—small, distant, irrelevant. I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of my mother's hug still on my skin, my father's voice still echoing with pride, and Daniel's name like a star on the horizon.
We were flying toward a future that finally belonged to us.
And for the first time in forever, I wasn't afraid of tomorrow.
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Author's Note :✈️
Well, well, look who finally made it out alive—our girl Ashley, soaring off into the sunset like a trauma-ridden Disney princess with better luggage and worse trust issues. 😌✈️ Honestly, after everything she's been through, I think she deserves at least a five-course meal, three therapy dogs, and a legally mandated nap that lasts a fiscal quarter.
Writing this chapter was like performing emotional CPR with a side of caffeine overdose ☕—equal parts pain, hope, and "please don't cry on your keyboard again." But it felt good to give her that peace, even if it came wrapped in jet engines and emotional baggage heavier than her carry-on. 🧳
Roman? Oh, that man's probably down there throwing a tantrum into his imported whiskey, wondering how he lost control of the one person who finally realized she's fireproof. 🔥 Too bad, so sad—villains don't get frequent flyer miles in this story.
So here's to freedom, family, and first-class trauma recovery. 🥂 May Ashley's next chapter be full of soft pillows, emotional stability, and maybe one slightly dysfunctional but loyal support group.
(And if you're crying while laughing at this… same, bestie. Same. 💀❤️)
-Vaanni🖤