Chapter 4: Taking Flight
1516 Words
Sylvia stood outside the glass doors of Celestial Aviation, the private jet company Evans Alberto was working with. Her reflection stared back at her—polished, professional, and confident. She wore a high-end black suit, subtle makeup, and to complete the look, her hair was tied into a neat bun.
She adjusted her badge, which identified her as "Natalie Cross," a senior operations executive from the company’s international branch. Marcus had forged the badge, but Sylvia had perfected every other detail. From the tone of her voice to the confident tilt of her head, she was Natalie Cross.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The receptionist at the front desk looked up, her smile polite but distant. “Welcome to Celestial Aviation. How can I help you today?”
Sylvia’s heels clicked on the tile as she approached. “I’m Natalie Cross,” she said smoothly, handing over her fake credentials. “I’m here to oversee the Alberto transaction.”
The receptionist blinked, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I wasn’t informed of any—”
Sylvia leaned forward slightly, her expression calm but firm. “Of course you weren’t. This deal is worth $170 million. You didn’t think it would be handled without someone from senior management stepping in, did you?”
The receptionist flushed, her thoughts tumbling out like an open book.
°She sounds legit. I don’t want to mess this up. Better call someone higher up.°
“Let me alert Mr. Chapman, our regional manager,” the receptionist stammered.
“Please do,” Sylvia said, flashing a reassuring smile.
It didn’t take long for Mr. Chapman to appear, his steps brisk as he approached. He was in his late forties, with thinning hair and the slightly frazzled air of someone juggling too many responsibilities.
“Ms. Cross,” he said, extending a hand. “I wasn’t expecting anyone from the international branch. What brings you here?”
Sylvia shook his hand firmly, her mind already reaching into his.
°Why didn’t I know about this? Did I miss a memo? International always meddles when there’s big money involved.°
“I’m here to ensure everything goes smoothly,” Sylvia said, her voice steady. “Mr. Alberto is a high-profile client, and the company can’t afford any missteps.”
Chapman nodded, his thoughts shifting to compliance. °She’s not wrong. Alberto’s name alone could make or break us.°
“Of course,” he said. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
For the next few hours, Sylvia toured the facility, seamlessly slipping into her role. She asked pointed questions about the jets, the payment process, and the timeline for delivery. Every question was calculated, designed to make her appear invested in the deal while gathering critical information.
The employees fell in line quickly, their thoughts betraying their eagerness to impress.
°She’s sharp. Better not screw anything up in front of her.°
°Finally, someone who knows what they’re doing.°
Sylvia soaked it all in, filing away every detail. By the end of the day, she knew the specifications of the jets, the names of the technicians working on them, and the exact date the payment was scheduled to clear.
Her next step was the mafia representatives.
Sylvia had learned from her research that Evans rarely handled deals like this directly. Instead, he sent trusted associates—professional, cold, and dangerous.
She met them in a conference room, a long table separating her from two men in sharp suits. Their expressions were neutral, but their minds were guarded, their thoughts harder to read than most.
Sylvia kept her tone professional as she introduced herself. “Gentlemen, I’ll be your point of contact for the remainder of this transaction. My job is to ensure everything is handled with discretion and efficiency.”
One of the men, a broad-shouldered enforcer type, leaned forward. “We didn’t ask for someone new.”
Sylvia’s smile didn’t falter. “And yet here I am. If there’s a problem, I can have my superiors contact Mr. Alberto directly. I’m sure he’d appreciate a delay in his schedule.”
The room fell silent. The men exchanged glances, their thoughts simmering.
°She’s bluffing. Or is she? Alberto hates delays°
°If she’s really from the top, it's wise not to cross her.°
Finally, the enforcer leaned back, his expression easing. “No problem. Let’s just get this done.”
Sylvia inclined her head. “Exactly my intention.”
When the meeting ended, Sylvia stepped into the hallway, her pulse steady but her mind buzzing. She’d convinced them, but this was only the beginning.
The con had to be airtight. One mistake, and men like Evans Alberto wouldn’t just report her—they’d bury her.
As she made her way toward the break room, her phone buzzed with a message from Marcus:
“Got what you need?”
Sylvia smiled faintly as she typed back:
“Almost. One more meeting, and it’s ours. For now, I'll send you some images. Get all the information you can on these men, especially the one with glasses. He just arrived, and already looks like he'll be a problem.”
She sent the images, then slipped the phone into her pocket and headed toward the break room with a sense of determination.
This was her most ambitious con yet, and she was just getting started.
About an Hour Later
Sylvia adjusted her blazer and stepped into the conference room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Seated between the two men from the previous meeting was the new face with glasses, a thin, sharp-eyed accountant named Peter. He held the final say on the meeting as far as funds were concerned.
Thanks to Marcus's hard work from a remote location, Sylvia now knew the representatives' names, roles, and how far they'd go to avoid disappointing their boss. What she didn’t know was whether they’d believe the lie she was about to sell them.
“Gentlemen, I believe you found everything satisfactory,” Sylvia said, her voice steady as she took her seat at the head of the table. “Let’s finalize this deal, shall we?”
They exchanged glances before Peter, the sharp-eyed accountant, leaned forward. “We’ve reviewed everything on our end. The specs for the jets look good, but before we proceed, we need to verify your credentials.”
Sylvia’s pulse quickened, but she kept her face calm. She had expected this, though not so soon.
“Of course,” she said smoothly, sliding a folder across the table. Inside were carefully forged documents: employment records, financial statements, and a letter signed by a nonexistent CEO.
Peter opened the folder, his brow furrowing as he scanned the papers. Sylvia watched him carefully, reaching out with her mind.
°Looks real . . . but I’ve never seen this CEO’s signature before. Better double-check with the international branch.°
She kept her expression neutral, even as her stomach twisted. If Peter contacted someone at Celestial Aviation’s main office, her entire cover could unravel.
Fortunately, she had Marcus for that. She prayed silently, hoping he'd play his part in intercepting the call and verifying her fake credentials.
Peter excused himself to make a call, leaving Sylvia alone with the other two representatives.
“So, Ms. Cross,” the enforcer from the previous meeting said, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. “How long have you been with Celestial?”
Sylvia smiled. “Five years. I started in their European branch before transferring to oversee international acquisitions.”
'Keep it vague,' she told herself. 'Give them just enough to satisfy their curiosity.'
“And you’ve worked on deals this big before?”
“Several,” she lied. “In fact, my last project involved a fleet of jets for a Middle Eastern royal family.”
The enforcer’s thoughts betrayed his grudging respect. °Sounds legit. Mr. Alberto wouldn’t waste time with amateurs.°
Sylvia relaxed slightly, though her focus remained sharp.
When Peter returned, his expression was difficult to read. He set the folder down and folded his hands on the table.
“Your credentials check out,” he said finally.
Sylvia suppressed a sigh of relief. “Excellent. Let’s move on to the payment schedule.”
The next hour was a careful dance of numbers, timelines, and legal jargon. Sylvia had rehearsed every detail, anticipating every question. Her mind-reading helped her navigate their doubts, feeding them answers before they could voice their concerns.
By the end of the meeting, the representatives looked satisfied—if not impressed.
Peter nodded. “We’ll wire the first payment by the end of the day. The rest will follow once the jets are delivered.”
Sylvia leaned back, allowing herself a small, professional smile. “That sounds perfect. I’ll oversee the transfer personally to ensure everything goes smoothly.”
In reality, she had no intention of waiting for the jets to be delivered. As soon as the first payment hit the account, she’d vanish.
- Writer
