My Husband Chose His Ex I Became His Regret novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Aidan

I’ve flown to Singapore fourteen times in my career, and I’ve never been nervous about it until today

I’m standing in the private terminal at JFK, checking my watch for the third time in five minutes. It’s 6:15 PM Lila’s fifteen minutes late, which is unusual for her. She’s normally punctual, one of the many things I’ve learned about her over the past three months.

My phone buzzes. Text from Marcus: Ms. Stark’s car just entered the airport. ETA three minutes.

I put my phone back in my pocket and try not to pace but fail.

This is ridiculous. It’s a business trip. I’ve taken hundreds of business trips. This is no different.

Except it is different. Because Lila’s coming with me. Because we’re going to spend five days in close quarters. Because I’ve been looking forward to this for a week like a teenager anticipating prom.

I’m thirty-two years old. CEO of a billion-dollar company. I do not get excited about business trips.

And yet here I am, checking my reflection in the window, making sure my tie is straight, wondering if I should have worn the navy suit instead of the charcoal.

Get it together, Storm.

The door opens. Lila rushes in, pulling a sleek carry-on behind her, looking slightly frazzled.

“I’m so sorry,” she says immediately. “Traffic was insane, and then my driver took a wrong turn, and…” She stops. Looks around. “Wait. Where’s everyone else?”

“Everyone else?”

“The other executives. Whoever else is coming on this trip.”

Oh. Right. I haven’t told her yet.

“It’s just us, I say.

Her eyes widen. “Just… us?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No! I just… thought this was a big delegation. Multiple people. Not just…” She gestures between us. “Us

“The Lee Corporation prefers smaller teams. More intimate negotiations. They find large groups impersonal Not entirely true, but not entirely false either. “Is that okay?”

She’s processing. I can see her working through the implications.

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Five days. Just the two of us. In Singapore.

“It’s fine,” she says finally. “Great. Professional. Very… intimate. I mean, small. Small team. That’s what I

meant.”

She’s nervous. Adorable when she’s nervous. Talks too much, gestures with her hands.

“The jet’s ready when we are,” I say. “Do you need anything before we board?”

“The jet.” She blinks. “Jet singular. As in private jet?”

“As in Storm Industries’ Gulfstream G650. Did you think we were flying commercial?”

“You said first class!”

“On a commercial flight, yes. But for international trips, I use the company jet. It’s more efficient.”

“You have a private jet.”

“The company has a private jet, I do too.”

She’s staring at me like I just told her we’re flying to the moon.

“Lila, breathe. It’s just a plane.”

“Just a plane. Right. A private plane. That costs… what, fifty million dollars?”

“Sixty-five, but who’s counting?” I take her carry-on. “Come on. You’re going to love it.”

I guide her through security, which takes approximately thirty seconds when you own the plane, and out onto the tarmac where the Gulfstream is waiting.

She stops walking. Just stops.

“That’s…” She trails off.

“That’s our ride.” I’m enjoying this more than I should. Watching her eyes go wide. Watching her realize that this is real. “Shall we?”

The flight attendant, Christine, who’s been with Storm Industries for five years,

greets us at the stairs.

“Mr. Storm. Ms. Stark. Welcome aboard.”

Lila climbs the stairs like she’s afraid they might disappear. I follow, watching her take in the interior.

Cream leather seats. Mahogany accents. A full galley. A bedroom in the back. Space for twelve passengers but configured for comfort, not capacity.

“This is insane,” she breathes. “This is absolutely insane.”

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“This is efficient.” I stow her bag, gesture to one of the seats. “Sit anywhere. There’s no assigned seating.”

She chooses a window seat. I take the one across from her. close enough to talk, far enough to maintain some semblance of professional distance.

Christine appears with champagne. “Compliments of the captain. We’ll be taking off in approximately ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Christine.” I accept both glasses, hand one to Lila. “To Singapore.”

“To Singapore,” she echoes, clinking her glass against mine. Takes a sip. “Oh my God. This is really good champagne.”

“Dom Pérignon. Only the best for international flights.”

“Of course it is.” She’s looking around again, taking in every detail. “Do you know how surreal this is for me? Four months ago, I was sleeping in a hotel that charged by the hour. Now I’m drinking Dom Pérignon on a private jet.”

“Four months ago, you were surviving. Now you’re thriving. There’s a difference.”

She meets my eyes. “Thank you. For this opportunity. For believing I could handle it.”

“Stop thanking me. You earned this.”

The engines start. Christine runs through the safety briefing, faster than commercial, since there are only two of us. Lila listens intently, still looking slightly overwhelmed.

We take off. The G650 climbs smoothly, pushing us back into our seats.

I watch Lila watch the city disappear below us. The wonder on her face. The excitement she’s trying to

contain.

“First international flight,” I observe.

“First time out of the country. First time on a private plane. First time drinking champagne at thirty thousand feet.” She looks at me. “You’re ruining me for normal experiences.”

“Good. You were never meant for normal.”

There’s that phrase again. The one that keeps slipping out when I’m around her.

“What was I meant for, then?” she asks.

You were meant to turn my carefully controlled world upside down. To make me question everything I thought I wanted. To make me feel things I’ve spent fifteen years avoiding.

“Extraordinary things,” I say instead. “You’re just getting started.”

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