Chapter 3 - THE TERMINAL
I couldn't breathe.
The seatbelt sign dinged off, and the cabin erupted into the usual chaotic rush for the overhead bins. People pushed past me, complaining about connections and lost baggage, completely oblivious to the fact that my world was collapsing in row 14.
Richard’s text glared at me. My guys are waiting at the terminal.
He wasn’t bluffing. Richard was a logistics manager for an international shipping firm; his entire job was tracking things across borders. I had used my own passport. I was an idiot. A desperate, terrified idiot.
“Mommy?” Maya rubbed her sleepy eyes, holding up her tattered pink rabbit. “Are we at the new house?”
“Almost, baby,” I choked out, unbuckling her with trembling hands. “We just have to walk very fast, okay?”
I grabbed our single suitcase. As we shuffled toward the front of the plane, I realized I had nowhere to go. If Richard’s men were at the exit, I couldn't go to baggage claim. I couldn't go to customs.
As we passed through the first-class cabin, it was already empty, save for a discarded newspaper. Julian Vance and his son were gone.
I carried Maya down the jet bridge, my eyes darting frantically. The Rome airport was massive and echoing. We joined the slow-moving line for passport control. Every man in a dark suit made my heart stop. Every sudden movement made me flinch.
Once through customs, we stepped into the chaotic arrivals hall. A sea of drivers held up white placards with names.
I scanned the crowd for Rosa. Nothing.
I checked my phone. I had tried calling her twice. Straight to voicemail.
Then, I saw him.
Standing near the exit doors was a man I recognized instantly. Greg. Richard’s right-hand man. He was scanning the crowd, speaking quietly into an earpiece.
My knees buckled. I pulled Maya behind a massive pillar, pressing my hand over her mouth. “Shh, baby. We have to hide,” I whispered, tears finally spilling over my lashes.
We were trapped. I had €274. I couldn't run.
“Sarah.”
I gasped, spinning around.
Standing behind me was Marcus, Julian’s massive bodyguard. He wasn’t looking at me; his eyes were trained on the crowd.
“Mr. Vance is waiting in the car,” Marcus said, his voice a low rumble. He reached down and smoothly took my suitcase.
“I—I can’t,” I stammered, terrified. “There’s someone looking for me.”
“We know,” Marcus replied calmly. “Mr. Vance doesn’t like bullies. Walk behind me. Keep your head down.”
I had no choice. I hoisted Maya onto my hip and followed Marcus’s broad back. He carved a path through the crowd, completely obscuring us from Greg’s view. We slipped through a side exit into the blinding Roman sunlight.
A sleek black SUV was idling at the curb. The door opened, and Julian Vance looked out. Leo was asleep in a car seat beside him.
“Get in,” Julian said.
I scrambled into the leather seats, pulling Maya tightly against my chest. As the SUV sped away from the terminal, the adrenaline crashed. I started to shake violently.
Julian reached into a compartment and pulled out a bottle of water, handing it to me. “Your cousin isn't coming, Sarah.”
I froze, the bottle halfway to my mouth. “What? How do you know about Rosa?”
Julian adjusted his silver watch, his expression unreadable. “Because while you were nursing my son, my team ran a background check on you. Your cousin Rosa was evicted from her apartment three weeks ago. She’s living in a shelter in Florence.”
He had investigated me. While we were in the air.
“Who are you?” I whispered, pulling Maya closer.
“Someone who owes you a debt,” Julian said evenly. “And someone who needs a nanny for the next month while I handle some business. You have nowhere to go. I have a villa in the hills, heavily guarded. You and your daughter will be safe.”
I stared at him, my heart hammering. Answer: I had a place to stay. Open: Why was he heavily guarded?
May you like
Before I could ask, Maya dropped her pink rabbit on the floorboards. Julian reached down to pick it up. As his fingers squeezed the soft belly of the toy, he frowned.
He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “Sarah… why is there something hard sewn inside your daughter’s toy?”
