Chapter 2

After boarding, I walked straight through the crowded economy aisle.

The flight attendants were guiding passengers to their seats.

I walked up to the chief purser and handed over my passport.

(At this point, Sierra doesn't take out the black card first, but hands over her passport instead. The flight attendant, somewhat impatiently, says first class is full. Only afterward does Sierra take out the black card, and the attendant's attitude does a complete one-eighty.)

"First class on this flight is fully booked," the attendant said, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice.

I then took out a card—a solid black metal card. It bore no bank logo of any kind, only a string of dark gold numbers and the special emblem belonging to the Vance family.

"Hello, I'd like to arrange an upgrade."

The chief purser took the card.

The moment her eyes landed on the emblem, her previously professional smile turned into one of extreme deference.

"My deepest apologies, Ms. Vance. It would be my utmost honor to serve you."

"First class on this flight is indeed full, but we have reserved the sole 'Skyline Private Suite' for you."

"Please, allow me to personally escort you there."

"Thank you." I took the card back.

The Skyline Private Suite was located at the very front of the aircraft.

It was a completely enclosed space, equipped with a double bed, a private bathroom, and a dedicated butler.

I sat down on the sofa and accepted a glass of Dom Pérignon champagne from the butler.

Gazing out the window at the New York night skyline, I felt nothing but calm.

I didn't seek revenge on Cedric, nor did I confront him.

Because when you discover half a fly baked inside a cake, you don't need to argue with the fly.

You simply throw the whole cake in the trash.

The plane had been flying smoothly for about two hours.

The doorbell of the suite rang, and the butler opened the door.

Standing outside, to my surprise, were Cedric and Genevieve.

It seemed they had come to the forward bar to grab some drinks and happened to notice the indicator light by the door.

When Cedric saw me sitting in the suite, a crystal glass in hand, his eyes went wide in an instant.

His face was a mask of disbelief, quickly followed by fury.

"Sierra? What are you doing in here?"

He strode inside, not even sparing a glance for the butler trying to stop him.

"Do you have any idea what kind of place this is? This is a private suite! Have you lost your mind?"

Genevieve followed him in.

She swept her eyes over the lavish décor, a flicker of envy crossing her face.

But it was quickly masked by an expression of feigned concern.

"Sierra, no matter how badly you want to be with us, you can't just sneak in here."

"If the flight attendants catch you, you'll get kicked off the plane."

"Now get out of here, now!"

"Sir, Ma'am, please leave," the butler said coldly, stepping in front of them to block their way.

"This is Ms. Vance's private cabin."

"Ms. Vance?"

Cedric froze for a moment, then let out a cold, scoffing laugh.

"What 'Ms. Vance'? She's a broke nobody who has to rely on me just to cover next month's rent!"

"Sierra, what kind of scheme did you pull to get in here?"

"Did you max out one of those predatory credit cards just to save face?"

"Do you have any idea you're going to ruin yourself doing this?"

He started lecturing me, assuming I was just some lowlife woman who'd resort to any means necessary to preserve her vanity.

I gently swirled the champagne in my glass.

"Cedric, do you honestly think I'm sitting here because I'm vain?"

"Then what else could it be?" he snapped, jaw clenched.

"With that pitiful design salary of yours, could you actually afford a ticket like this?"

"Do you have any idea how much it costs to upgrade to this cabin?"

"You went and borrowed money, just to spite me, just to save face in front of Genevieve?"

"You've disappointed me so much!"

"So in your mind, the only way I could possibly afford a decent seat is by borrowing money."

I set down my glass, stood up, and walked toward him.

I was half a head shorter than him.

But in that moment, the way I looked at him—it was as if I were looking down from above.

"Cedric, you bought me an economy ticket—not because the sponsor wouldn't reimburse it."

"It's because you wanted to pocket the savings from the first-class budget to buy Genevieve that twenty-thousand-dollar Cartier bracelet. Isn't that right?"

Cedric's face went instantly pale.

Genevieve's hand instinctively drew back a little.

"You... what nonsense are you talking about!"

Cedric stammered.

"I'm not talking nonsense."

I pointed at Genevieve's wrist.

"That bracelet is a limited edition. It just went on sale on Fifth Avenue yesterday."

"You told me last night you were working late at the studio. In truth, you were in line to buy that bracelet."

"You embezzled the budget meant for the team's plane tickets."

"And then you gaslit me into willingly sitting in economy class."

"Sierra, you're being absolutely unreasonable!"

Caught with his secret exposed, Cedric flew into a humiliated rage.

"You're acting like some shrewish woman now, your mind consumed with nothing but money and scheming!"

"You disgust me!"

"Butler," I said, ignoring his impotent fury, turning instead to the butler beside me. "My cabin has gotten far too noisy. It's severely disrupting my rest."

"Of course, Ms. Vance."

The butler immediately pressed the call button.

Two tall, sturdy security officers arrived promptly.

"Sierra! You just wait!"

"Once we get to Paris, don't you dare think you're spending a single cent of my money!"

As the security officers forcibly escorted Cedric out, he was still shouting furiously in the corridor.

I sat back down on the sofa and downed the rest of the champagne in one go.

Spend his money?

Cedric, there's something you probably don't know.

That architecture studio you're so proud of—it's actually funded by a shell company under my name.