Chapter 10 - The Horizon Above Queens
Six months later.
The morning sun broke over the New York skyline, casting a golden wash of light across the glass towers of Manhattan and the quiet, tree-lined streets of Queens.
In a sunlit penthouse apartment overlooking the East River—furnished with expensive Italian leather, modern art, and a massive custom scratching post for a very pampered grey cat named Barnaby—Evelyn Foster stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping a cup of freshly brewed Italian espresso.
The secure satellite phone on the marble kitchen island buzzed once.
Evelyn walked over, picked it up, and tapped the screen.
“Flight 742 to Rome is cleared for departure, Dr. Vance. Safe travels. — A.”
Evelyn smiled, a deep, genuine, radiant smile that reached all the way to her eyes. She slipped the phone into her designer coat pocket, grabbed her passport and her private aviation credentials, and walked toward the private elevator.
She didn't need to check her bags. She didn't need to worry about turbulence, difficult passengers, or poisoned coffee cups.
Because thirty-seven thousand feet above the Atlantic, flying through the endless expanse of blue sky and golden sunlight, she wasn't just a flight attendant anymore.
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She was the woman who had saved the boss, outsmarted the syndicate, and won the heart of the most dangerous man in the world. And as the elevator doors slid open to reveal Antonio waiting for her in the private lobby below, Evelyn knew one thing for certain:
Nobody was ever going to forget her name again.
