The jet cut through the morning sky like a blade through silk, sleek and silent. Inside, Grace sat by the window, her fingers absently tracing the condensation forming on the glass. Below, the vast landscape of Europe sprawled, rolling hills, rivers like veins, cities pulsing with quiet life.
She was going home.
But nothing about it felt like a homecoming.
Across from her, Nathaniel studied a folder brimming with legal documents, press statements, and merger plans. Ashford Industries had collapsed like a house of cards once Facility X was exposed. The international fallout has been swift and brutal. Shareholders fled, the board dissolved, and assets were frozen pending investigations.
And yet… amid the ashes, something new could rise.
“We’ll land in forty,” he said without looking up.
