Valmont Series - Inheritance Code

Chapter 1.4 - The Descent

"Ready?" Aiden asked, already climbing into the aircraft.

Aria didn't answer. She turned her phone off, slid it into her bag, and stepped forward like she was walking into battle.

They didn't look back.

As the helicopter lifted into the sky, Sydney dropped away beneath them—sun glinting off the harbor, the edges of the Opera House winking goodbye. The city they had ruled in their own way, now just glitter in the distance.

Aria clutched the armrest. "What kind of school doesn't have internet?"

"Apparently," Aiden said dryly, "the kind where you disappear."

She exhaled, still not ready to admit the truth out loud:

She was scared.

But also—somewhere, deep under the denial and Burberry—she was a little bit curious.

The flight lasted just under thirty minutes. They passed over rural farmland, patches of forest, and empty fields that looked far too perfect to be accidental. Eventually, the helicopter began to descend toward a clearing that didn't show up on any map.

To Aria, it looked like nothing. Just trees.

Until the ground shimmered—literally. As if someone had peeled a transparent sticker off the earth.

A patch of dense greenery dissolved, revealing a futuristic base sunken into the landscape. Low-slung, metallic, and utterly silent. A black runway cut through the center like a scalpel. The helipad they landed on retracted into the ground the moment their skids touched down.

No signs. No staff. Just a second aircraft waiting.

It didn't look like any plane Aria—or even Aiden—had ever seen.

Sleek and matte-black, its body curved like liquid obsidian, tapering into a razor-sharp tail. There were no windows—only a seamless surface that shimmered faintly under the hangar lights, like light bending around it. No engines, no logos, no steps extended. It hovered slightly above the ground, motionless and silent, more like a predator at rest than a passenger jet.

Aiden's eyes lit up. "That's not even listed in classified aircraft databases."

"That's... not a thing most people say," Aria muttered, but even she couldn't look away. It was beautiful. Terrifying. The kind of aircraft that didn't exist until someone needed to disappear.

"This is where we say goodbye," William said, unbuckling his belt.

"What?" Aria blinked. "You're not coming?"

Vivienne's expression softened. "We're cleared to escort you to the base today—but not beyond."

"You'll continue the rest of the journey alone," William added.

Aria looked between them. The weight of it settled in, and she finally understood the futility of protesting further. "Seriously?"

Vivienne stepped forward and smoothed the edge of her daughter's collar. "You're going to be fine."

"You don't know that."

"No," Vivienne said, "but I believe it."

Vivienne hugged them both. William gave one last nod, rare warmth behind his unreadable eyes.

"We'll join you as soon as our work commitments are cleared," Vivienne said, smoothing Aria's coat one last time. Her voice was gentle, but carried something underneath it—a quiet finality, like there was more she wasn't saying. "It won't be long. Hopefully after... your first milestone."