Chapter 3 - FLIGHT INTO THE NIGHT The Gulfstream disappeared into the clouds before dawn.
Isabella sat alone beside the window.
The city beneath her became a field of distant lights.
For the first time in her life, she was leaving it behind.
She had spent years believing she was Elena.
A poor girl.
A servant.
Someone who should be grateful simply to have a roof.
Now Mateo was telling her she belonged to a dynasty.
But wealth didn't erase memories.
She remembered Victoria's voice.
The insults.
The locked rooms.
The nights she cried silently into a pillow because making noise meant punishment.
"I don't know how to be Isabella," she admitted.
Mateo looked across the cabin.
"You don't have to become someone else."
"I don't know anything about business."
"Neither did your father at your age."
"I know how to clean Persian rugs."
Mateo smiled faintly.
"That's still more practical than half the executives I know."
She almost laughed.
Almost.
Then she looked down at the silver key.
"What exactly is in Geneva?"
"Vault 777."
"And what's inside?"
"Something your father trusted no one else to protect."
The jet moved through turbulence.
Isabella closed her eyes.
"What if I don't want any of this?"
Mateo's expression softened.
"Then you walk away."
She opened her eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He leaned forward.
"The fortune belongs to you. But so does the choice."
That mattered.
Because everyone else had always made choices for her.
Rosa had chosen to hide her.
Victoria had chosen to abuse her.
Silas had chosen to hunt her.
Now Mateo was giving her something she had never possessed.
A choice.
She reached for his hand.
"Then I choose to know the truth."
Mateo squeezed her fingers.
"Good."
Outside, the clouds parted.
Moonlight spilled across the cabin.
May you like
Neither of them knew that thousands of miles away, Silas Thorne was already moving.
And he had no intention of letting Isabella reach the vault alive.
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