The Workaholic Wife ✅

Turbulence

I glare at the three men surrounding our seats. There was no other options than to retreat. But retreat was not in my vocabulary. I could scream for help, but with the knife two inch near my stomach, I don't want to risk it. If it was just my life, I would have risked anything. But with my kids and with Aniket on the line, I don't want to do anything that will put them in harm's path.

Aniket pulls me closer to him, and I willingly embrace him.

I need a plan. Plan. Plan. What do I do? What can I do?

Strategies can't work in a limited space such as this. They can kill us in a second before I can say a thing about it.

Then this is it. I'm going to be murdered with my family in the middle of a sleeping herd of people.

When I start to think all hope has been lost, a warm liquid trickles down my legs.

"Did you just pee on me?" Aniket shrieks, leaning back in his chair in disgust. "I told you to go to the washroom earlier, Krithi. Did you listen to me?" He sighs, as I glare at him. "It's fine, you don't need to be scared. I'm here, aren't I?"

"You idiot! My water broke!" I yell, clenching my teeth in pain as the contractions kick in. This should not be happening. I'm under 37 weeks of pregnancy, and I was expecting labour in a few weeks. Approximately, there's thirty minutes until this flight lands, and I have a series of killers on my tail.

"Merde!" The man in the middle laughs. The guy to his right hits the man on his head.

"This is not funny." He scolds the other idiot. "My wife is pregnant too." Crony numero un says, turning to me.

The two other men stand idly in the midst of the rows, staring at me in shock. The man turns to the other. "What do you want us to do? This is a job. Boss will kill us—

"I'll pay you." Aniket butts in, and all three of them turn their attention towards him. "Whatever you want." He adds, bargaining for our lives.

"Aniket." I scold, but he doesn't listen to me. He shouldn't be wasting money like this. We can't trust them. He clamps his hand tightly around my wrist, telling me secretively that I should stay quiet in their negotiation.

"Five million francs." The one to the left calls. Aniket nods without a second thought, taking out his phone.

"You'll get your payment after you help us." I crane my head towards Aniket's direction, confusion striking me in the oddest of ways.

Another contraction pounds into me, and the painful sensation in my stomach makes me scream out in pain. I grasp onto Aniket's hands, exhaling and inhaling simultaneously.

"W-what's happening?" Aniket stutters, positioning me comfortably on the chair by helping my lower back settle onto the plush leather.

"It's not helping." I groan. "This is for real. I'm actually giving birth." I gasp in shock. "C-contractions."

"Should I call Alisha?"

"We're about to land, you douchebag. They won't let— ah!" I scream again. The pain near my pelvic region intensifies as another wave of pain rolls through. This is nothing like menstrual cramps. This is like hell itself.

No wonder women described childbirth to be worse than death. I would rather fight a hundred people than go into labour.

The three cronies and Aniket stand shoulder to shoulder now, each one possessing the facial expression of a monkey on heroin. The man in the middle is biting his nails, while the guy to his right is ripping his hair out in frustration.