Chapter 231
~Bella~
The cabin of the private jet was quiet, save for the low, rhythmic hum of the engines cutting through the midnight sky at forty thousand feet. I sat in the deep, cream leather chair, swirling a glass of sparkling water between my fingers.
I had this luxury thanks to a man.
I set the glass down and reached into my designer handbag, pulling out a thick, bound folder. I didn't need to read the documents inside, I had memorized every single syllable, every forged date, and every fabricated signature over the last forty-eight hours, but I wanted to feel the physical weight of them in my hands. It was the blueprint of my resurrection.
