trying to steal my seat. He’s aggressive, and frankly, I don’t feel safe.”
Jessica hesitated.
“That’s not exactly—”
“Excuse me?” Darla snapped.
Jessica fell silent.
Evan handed Marissa his boarding pass.
“My seat is 2A.”
Marissa scanned it.
BEEP.
Her expression shifted.
She rechecked the screen.
Then she watched Darla.
“Mrs. Whitmore… your seat is 4C.”
Darla blinked.
“That’s impossible.”
“Your boarding pass confirms 4C.”
Darla stiffened.
“Do you know who my husband is?”
Something shifted in Evan’s eyes.
He met her gaze.
“Yes.”
Darla frowned.
“What did you say?”
Evan slipped the boarding pass into his jacket.
“I know your husband’s company,” he said.
Darla’s confidence faltered.
“Whitmore Logistics.”
Her smile vanished.
Evan lifted his suitcase and stepped closer.
His voice stayed low.
Almost unnervingly so.
Then he spoke the words that drained Darla’s face of color.
“I own it.”
Darla froze.
Her mouth parted.
No words came.
Across
