Chapter 6 - The Quiet Sky
Six months later.
The quiet, luxurious interior of a Gulfstream G650 private jet hummed softly as it glided smoothly at forty-five thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean.
The sun was setting along the western horizon, casting a brilliant, golden-orange glow across the clouds below. Inside the cabin, soft leather armchairs, polished teak tables, and ambient amber lighting created an environment of absolute, undisturbed peace.
Elias Thorne sat in a broad leather seat near the forward window, a crystal glass of sparkling mineral water sitting on the table beside his tablet.
A stewardess in an immaculate navy uniform approached quietly, holding a silver tray with a fresh pot of coffee and a small porcelain cup.
"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Thorne?" she asked politely, offering a gentle smile.
Elias looked up from his reading, his gray eyes calm and relaxed. He looked at the steaming pot, then at the pristine white tablecloth.
"Yes, thank you," Elias said softly. "Black, please."
The stewardess poured the dark liquid with practiced, steady grace, filling the cup without spilling a single drop onto the porcelain saucer.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?" she asked, setting the silver pot down on the galley counter nearby.
Elias picked up the porcelain cup, taking a slow, quiet sip as he looked out the window at the vast, endless sky stretching into the twilight.
May you like
There were no shouts, no thrown drinks, no desperate conspiracies, and no arrogant socialites demanding the removal of quiet men who knew too much. There was only the steady, rhythmic hum of the engines carrying him forward into a future he owned entirely.
"Yes," Elias Thorne said, setting his cup down onto the saucers with a soft, perfect clink. "Everything is exactly as it should be."
