Chapter 284
Chapter 284:
Across the city, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Skye Sterling sat in the quiet study of The Obsidian, Alistair’s private yacht docked at the edge of the harbor. The gentle sway of the vessel was the only indication she wasn’t on solid ground. She wasn’t using her own technology; instead, she typed on a secure, military-grade laptop Alistair had provided before her return to the “prison p>
She wasn’t wearing the engagement ring. The massive blue diamond sat in its velvet box on the mahogany desk, catching the reflection of the harbor lights. Right now, she wasn’t Alistair’s fiancée. She was the Oracle, and her window of opportunity was closing. In less than an hour, she would have to surrender all digital devices and return to the communication blackout of the Vance Media training camp.
Her fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard, the clicking sound rapid and rhythmic. On the center screen was a dossier.
It was the final compilation of evidence regarding Seraphina’s “accident p>
Skye reviewed the files one last time.
Exhibit A: Emergency Room Admission Logs.
Exhibit B: Radiologist Report—No fractures found.
Exhibit C: Payment transfer from Seraphina’s hidden account to a private doctor for “consultation” two hours before the crash.
It was damning. It was brutal. It was perfect.
Skye didn’t feel triumph. She felt a cold, clinical satisfaction. This was surgery. She was cutting out a tumor.
She opened a secure browser, routing her connection through a proxy server in Estonia, then another in Singapore. She attached the files to a blank email.
The recipients were already in the address bar: TMZ, Page Six, The Daily Mail.
She typed a simple subject line: The Miracle Survivor or The Great Pretender?
She hovered her finger over the Enter key.
A notification popped up on the secure screen—a message from Alistair via the internal yacht network.
Alistair: The car is waiting to take you back to the dorms. Are you sure you want to walk back into the lion’s den?
Skye’s lips quirked in a faint, genuine smile. For a second, the cold blue light in her eyes softened. Alistair was building a life for them, a normal life filled with bad cakes and friends, but he understood her need to finish this war from the inside.
𝗘𝘯joy 𝗿e𝖺di𝘯𝗴 lе𝗴𝗮𝗹lу о𝗇 𝖻е.𝖼𝗼𝗆
“I have to,” she whispered to the empty room. “I need to break Dominic’s hold on the talent before I leave for good p>
She looked back at the screen. Seraphina was out there, likely running back to Liam right now, planning her next act, her next tearful manipulation.
“Not this time,” Skye whispered.
She pressed Enter.
The progress bar flashed across the screen.
Sent.
Skye leaned back in the chair, exhaling a long breath she felt like she’d been holding for days. She closed the laptop and wiped the session data. Then she stood, smoothing down her simple tracksuit—the uniform of a trainee.
She picked up the ring box, hesitated, and tucked it deep into a hidden pocket of her bag. She couldn’t wear it inside, but she needed the weight of it near her.
She walked out onto the deck, looking at the city skyline. Somewhere down there, the news cycle was beginning to churn. By morning, Seraphina Miller wouldn’t be the tragic victim of a car crash. She would be the woman who faked her own near-death experience for sympathy.
“Run fast, Seraphina,” Skye murmured to the wind. “The truth is faster p>
The dormitory for Vance Media trainees was a study in brutalist architecture and crushed dreams. The hallways smelled of floor wax and stale sweat, a scent that lingered no matter how many times the cleaning crew came through. Skye walked down the corridor, her posture rigid. She was not a new arrival this time, but her status had changed.