Chapter 2 - THE TARMAC PROPOSITION
The private jet's tires kissed the runway in New York with a heavy jolt, but the tension inside the cabin remained agonizingly tight. Elara was asleep against my chest, her tiny breaths warm through my blouse. As the aircraft taxied toward a secluded hangar, Lucas Mercer unbuckled his seatbelt and knelt in the aisle beside me. He didn't look like the ruthless corporate titan the media portrayed; he looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff.
"My car is waiting," Lucas said, his voice a low rumble designed not to wake the infant. "You're coming with us."
I shook my head, my maternal instinct warring with my desperate need to return to the numb safety of my isolated life. "Mr. Mercer, I helped your daughter, but I have a connecting flight. I have a life—"
May you like
"A life you were running from," he interrupted, his piercing blue eyes catching mine. He didn't say it with cruelty, but with the terrifying observation of a man who dealt in human leverage. "The people who killed my wife are looking for Elara. If you walk out of this airport alone, they will find you. They will break you to learn where we went. By feeding her, you inserted yourself into a war you don't understand."
My blood ran cold. The security team was already moving, their hands resting subtly on concealed weapons. I looked down at the sleeping baby, remembering the silence of my own empty nursery. I had nothing left to lose. I nodded.
