Chapter 855
She vanished through the skylight. The helicopter lifted off, its rhythmic thumping reverberating through their chests as it climbed into the night.
Alistair cursed and holstered his gun. “She got away.”
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Skye crossed to Felix. “Are you okay?”
Felix rubbed his chest where the round had struck the Kevlar plate. “Bruised ribs. But I’m alive.” He looked up. “Did we get the data?”
“She took the fake drive,” Alistair said, holding up the tablet he had torn from Celeste’s belt. “But we have something better. Her personal uplink.”
Skye’s eyes widened. “The flight codes.”
“And the bank transfers,” Alistair confirmed. “We have everything.”
“Then let’s finish this,” Skye said. “We stop the sale — and then we go get our friends.”
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𝖣ow𝗻𝘭𝗈𝗮𝖽 𝗣DF𝘴 𝘧𝗿𝘦е 𝗈𝘯 𝗀𝘢𝗅n𝗼𝘷𝗲l𝗌.с𝗈m
The next morning, the sun rose over a city that felt different. The air was clearer.
At Kensington Global Tower, the boardroom was packed. Shareholders, executives, and lawyers filled every seat along the long mahogany table.
Celeste Cain sat at its head. She looked impeccable in a white power suit, not a hair out of place — no trace of the frantic woman who had fled a warehouse the night before. She had landed the chopper, changed, and come straight here to finalize the theft.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “As acting CEO in Liam’s absence, I have made the difficult decision to divest our logistics division. The buyer is a consortium from Dubai.”
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“A shell company,” a voice rang out.
The double doors swung open.
Skye Sterling walked in wearing a dress the color of midnight, her sharp heels clicking on the marble floor like gunshots. Flanking her were Alistair Thorne and Lucian Graves.
“Skye Sterling,” Celeste said, her smile not wavering. “This is a private meeting. Security?”
“Security works for me now,” Lucian said, stepping forward. He tossed a file onto the table. “I acquired twenty percent of the voting stock this morning. Combined with Beatrice Kensington’s proxy — which she signed over to me an hour ago from her hospital bed — I control the board.”
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Murmurs erupted around the table.
“Beatrice is senile,” Celeste spat, her mask slipping.
“Beatrice is furious,” Skye corrected, slamming a folder onto the table. “I visited her this morning and showed her the evidence of you gutting the company. She hates me, Celeste, but she loves the Kensington name more. She would rather hand this company to her worst enemy than let a vulture like you pick the carcass clean.”
Skye plugged a USB drive into the main projector.
The screen lit up, displaying the consortium’s registration documents. The owner was listed under a complex trust, but the beneficiary trace led back to a single account number.
“That account,” Skye said, pointing to the screen, “was accessed from your personal tablet last night. The same tablet you lost.”
The shareholders gasped.
“This is forged!” Celeste shot to her feet, knocking her chair back. “You hacked my files!”