The private jet was cruising at 40,000 feet, its sleek interior exuding nothing but luxury.
The leather seats, polished wood finishes, and soft golden lighting gave it the feel of an exclusive boardroom in the sky.
Thomas Winters sat comfortably in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of scotch resting in his hand.
Despite the smooth hum of the aircraft engines and the tranquility of being away from prying eyes, Thomas’s mind was far from relaxed.
His meeting with Sophia had stirred something in him—a renewed determination. He had made her a promise, and Thomas Winters never made promises he didn’t intend to keep.
He was going to take everything from Ryan.
Seated across from him was Marcus Sterling, his trusted assistant and right-hand man for the past fifteen years.
