Katia’s POV
The air at forty thousand feet was the only thing that ever felt truly clean.
I sat in the captain’s chair of my Gulfstream G650, my hands resting lightly on the controls, feeling the subtle vibration of the twin engines through the floorboards. To most people, a private jet was a symbol of status, a luxury to be enjoyed from the plush leather seats of the cabin with a glass of vintage Cristal. To me, it was a machine of logic. I didn't want to be served; I wanted to be the one navigating the trajectory.
Beside me, in the co-pilot’s seat, Aiden sat perched on a customized booster, his own miniature headset adjusted over his dark curls. He wasn't watching a movie or playing a game. His wide, sapphire eyes were glued to the primary flight display, watching the digital horizon
