Chapter 8 - The Crossing to London
The high-altitude clouds drifted past the window of the private Gulfstream jet as it soared over the Atlantic Ocean toward London.
Inside the luxurious leather cabin, soft ambient lights illuminated the polished wood interior.
Elena sat on a plush velvet sofa, reading a storybook to Noah, who was tucked under a warm cashmere blanket, holding his stuffed rabbit tightly.
Vincent sat across from them, reviewing tactical schematics of the London financial district on an encrypted tablet. He wore a sharp black suit, his dark curly hair neatly groomed, his piercing blue eyes sharp and focused.
Marcus stepped into the cabin from the cockpit, holding two cups of fresh espresso. He handed one to Vincent and sat down across the aisle.
"Our advance security team in London has secured the private penthouse in Mayfair, Boss," Marcus reported softly. "Sir Arthur Sterling’s legal team is waiting for our arrival at the Sovereign Trust headquarters tomorrow morning."
Vincent took a slow sip of his espresso, his gaze drifting to little Noah sleeping peacefully on the sofa.
"Sir Arthur Sterling was my father's business associate forty years ago, Marcus," Vincent revealed quietly. "He knows the true extent of the European trust."
May you like
"Do you think Sterling was involved in Gabriel's accident three years ago?" Marcus asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
"We will find out tomorrow," Vincent said, his deep baritone dropping into a low, terrifying pitch. "If anyone in London tries to touch my nephew's inheritance, I will dismantle their empire piece by piece."
