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Chapter 29
Chapter 29:
“The distraction worked,” Skye said. “Arthur is terrified. He thinks I’m calling the SEC. While he’s panicking, move the Sterling Trust assets to the offshore account. Now p>
“Done, Miss Sterling,” the banker replied.
Skye hung up. She looked back at the Manor.
She had used the rumor to cover her real tracks. While everyone was looking at the fake “bribe,” she had moved her entire inheritance out of their reach.
The car stopped.
Not a taxi.
A black Maybach.
The window rolled down. Alistair Thorne was in the driver’s seat.
“Need a lift to your new life?” he asked.
Skye opened the door and got in. “Drive p>
The car stopped in front of The Spire. It was a glass needle piercing the sky, the most exclusive residential building in Sea City, conveniently close to the university district.
“This is it?” Skye asked, looking up.
“Penthouse suite,” Alistair said, handing the valet his key. “Owned by a shell company. Vanguard LLC. Liam won’t be able to trace any paper trail back to me p>
They rode the private elevator in silence. The tension in the small space was palpable. Skye watched the numbers climb.
40… 50… 60.
The doors opened directly into the living room.
It was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a 360-degree view of the city. The decor was modern, minimalist, and expensive.
“It’s perfect,” Skye whispered. She walked to the window, pressing her hand against the cool glass. “Thank you, Alistair p>
Alistair stood by the elevator. He didn’t come further in. He respected her boundaries.
𝖳h𝘪𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝘳𝘺 bе𝘭𝘰ո𝘨𝘀 𝘵𝗈 𝖻e.с𝗼m
“The security system is military-grade,” he said. “Biometric locks. No one gets in unless you want them to.” He tossed a key card onto the kitchen island.
“I’ll leave you to unpack,” he said.
“Alistair,” Skye turned. “Why are you doing this p>
Alistair paused. He looked at her, his gray eyes softening for a fraction of a second.
“Because I hate wasted potential,” he said. “And because watching you tear down the Kensingtons is better than any movie p>
He left.
Skye spent the next hour setting up her “Oracle” command center in the study. Five monitors. Secure servers. She was ready.
Across town, Seraphina was scrolling through Instagram.
She froze.
A paparazzi account had posted a photo: Skye Sterling spotted entering The Spire with luggage. Moving on or moving up?
Seraphina dropped her phone. The Spire? That building was for billionaires.
