Jason Miller? My fiancé?
He actually gave away the government-assigned rescue helicopter—meant for saving lives during disasters—as a gift to his mistress?
I almost laughed out of anger.
If it hadn’t been for my family saying Jason looked decent enough and that our families were “roughly” a match, I would never have agreed to this engagement with such a spoiled brat.
If the authorities found out they were misusing rescue resources and delaying disaster response, it would mean at least ten years in prison.
But time was tight—I needed to save lives. I had no patience for her tantrum.
“This is my helicopter. Get off immediately. If you delay a rescue mission, you will be punished!”
I was about to close the cabin door when she smashed a stiletto heel onto my head.
My hand slipped, and the cabin door slammed shut. She smugly settled into the back seat.
Clutching my head, I frowned at her. “Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?”
Seeing me talk back, she slapped me across the face.
“Who said you could steal my helicopter?!”
“This is the newest model. Even my instructor, a first-class retired Air Force pilot, finds it difficult to handle. Who do you think you are to even touch it?”