Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

an, a man named Henry who usually looked through El

nvas bag. He

Stephens?" Henry asked, his

orrected without brea

evolving doors and stepp

blaring, sirens wailing, the low hum of millions

e curb and pulle

t opening a social media app. She was accessi

, replaced by a black terminal

rotocol:

he pinged a secure offshore serv

n of a percent of global high-frequency trades through a ghost algorithm, simultaneously

appeared on

Balance: $50

tarted. They were untraceable, liquid, and entirely hers. They had been sitting dor

t all. That would tri

ash into a generic, untraceable spending account. S

She spoofed her GPS location to bounce off three diff

rty seconds later. It was a priority

thouse balcony, Kason

ted to see her crying on the ben

mium SUV. She moved with a military-straig

in his pocket.

re," Chelsea's voice pur

napped, and hung up. He stared at the spot where the

nd quiet. The tinted windows turne

her reflection

pulled at the corner of her eye. It was the result of a "kitchen accident

he scar. Her

," she whispered to hers

phone: Bio-gel synthesis ma

with a scarred face. His expression remained professionally neutral, his ey

tina

She needed neutral ground. She ne

e vibrat

it up. Calle

at the name. F

et it

lent, then beeped

. She accessed the audio file directly th

ous, distorted by the spee

don't bother coming home. You are us

t was a dark, dan

empty car. "No. I'm co

y traffic, leaving the Steph