Chapter 7 - Sophia’s Panic
Across the city, in the opulent master bedroom of the Moretti estate, Sophia Carter was pacing the hardwood floors, her knuckles white as she gripped her champagne glass.
Her phone buzzed on the vanity. She lunged for it.
“Did you find anything?” she demanded without preamble.
On the other end of the line, a nervous, raspy voice replied. It was Greg Daniels, a former private contractor who had handled logistics for the Moretti family’s private aviation fleet.
“Sophia, we have a massive problem,” Daniels whispered, his voice trembling. “The Vance Global team just filed an inquiry with the National Transportation Safety Board. They’re reopening the investigation into the crash.”
Sophia’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Her breath hitched violently. “What? On what grounds? That crash was ruled an engine malfunction due to severe icing!”
“They have the flight data recorder, Sophia!” Daniels hissed. “Julian Vance’s team recovered the secondary black box from the tail section two years ago! They know the fuel line valve was manually overridden before takeoff!”
Sophia felt the room spin. She collapsed onto the velvet ottoman, her manicured fingers trembling so hard she spilled champagne across her silk robe.
*No. No, no, no.*
Three years ago, Sophia had realized that Vincent was slipping away from her forever. Anna’s pregnancy had cemented the marriage. Vincent had begun cutting ties with his past, focusing entirely on building a clean, legitimate legacy for his unborn heir. Sophia had been relegated to the sidelines—a lingering shadow of his youth.
She couldn't accept it.
She had paid Daniels a quarter of a million dollars to tamper with the auxiliary fuel line valve on the private jet. The plan wasn't supposed to cause an explosion in mid-air. It was supposed to force an emergency landing at a remote airfield, terrorizing Anna, inducing stress, maybe causing a complication that would end the pregnancy.
Sophia had engineered her presence on that flight to be the damsel in distress. She had known Vincent’s protective instincts. She knew that when panic struck, Vincent reverted to the man who guarded his oldest loyalties.
She had counted on Vincent saving her first.
She had never intended for the jet to explode. But when it did, she had counted it as a blessing. Anna was dead. The child was dead. The path to Vincent’s billions was clear.
“Sophia, you need to pay me the rest of the offshore funds,” Daniels panicked on the line. “If Vance’s people link me to the ground crew, I’m going to prison for life. And if I go down, I’m taking you with me!”
“Shut your mouth!” Sophia hissed through clenched teeth. “You’ll get your money! Just make sure whatever files you have left are destroyed completely!”
“I need three million by tonight, or I’m going to Vincent myself!”
Daniels hung up.
Sophia threw her phone against the full-length mirror, shattering the glass into a web of silver shards.
She looked at her fractured reflection.
If Anna Bennett was alive… if Anna knew…
Sophia’s eyes narrowed into slits of venomous desperation.
May you like
“You should have stayed in the fire, Anna,” she muttered to the empty room. “Because this time, I won't leave it to chance.”
***
