Chapter 2 - THE ONE-WAY TICKET
Dante Costa did not yell. He didn’t flip the table or raise his voice.
For a man who controlled half the city’s underground shipping ports, his anger was terrifyingly quiet.
He stayed crouched beside his eight-year-old daughter. His thumb gently wiped a tear from Ava’s pale cheek.
“You will never have to keep a secret from me again,” Dante said, his voice a low, gravelly promise. “Do you understand me, Ava? No one is going to take you away.”
Ava gave a tiny, jerky nod.
Dante finally stood up. He turned slowly to face Meredith.
The dining room was so silent you could hear the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The wealthy guests—senators, business partners, and syndicate underbosses—were frozen in their seats.
Meredith’s perfect, porcelain face had lost its color. She let out a breathy, nervous laugh, glancing around the table for support.
“Dante, darling, she’s a child,” Meredith said, smoothing the front of her designer gown. “Children exaggerate. I simply told her not to worry her mother over a little tummy ache—”
“A stomach bug,” Dante interrupted. His tone was like crushed ice. “That’s what you told Sarah at the hospital?”
“Yes, because Sarah is hysterical! She uses Ava’s allergies to manipulate you, Dante. I was protecting you.”
“You fed my daughter a cake you knew was contaminated,” Dante said, taking a slow step toward her. “You watched her throat swell shut. You watched her stop breathing. And then you threatened to take her away from me if she told the truth.”
Meredith took a step back, her heel catching on the edge of the Persian rug.
“I am your fiancée!” she cried out, her composure shattering. “I am trying to prepare this house for our future! You let this maid and your ex-wife run your life—”
“The engagement is over,” Dante said.
Meredith froze. “You can’t be serious. The wedding is in a month. My family—”
“Your family will receive their investments back by morning,” Dante cut her off. He didn’t look at her anymore. He looked at his head of security, a broad-shouldered man standing by the doors. “Marcus. Get her out of my house. She leaves with the clothes on her back.”
“Dante, please!” Meredith shrieked as Marcus stepped forward. “You’re making a mistake over a spoiled child and the help!”
Marcus grabbed her arm. Meredith fought him, her manicured nails digging into his sleeve, but he effortlessly pulled her out of the dining room. Her screams echoed down the marble hallway until the heavy front doors slammed shut.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Dante looked at his guests. “Dinner is concluded. Goodnight.”
No one argued. The guests stood in unison, leaving their coats and rushing for the exits.
I stood near the sideboard, my hands shaking. I had just watched a billionaire end an alliance that had taken years to build, all to protect his little girl.
Dante turned to me.
“Jenna,” he said softly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take Ava upstairs. Run her a warm bath. Stay with her until I come up.”
“Of course.”
I walked over to Ava. She was trembling, staring at the empty doorway where Meredith had disappeared. I gently took her small hand. It was ice cold.
“Come on, sweetie,” I whispered. “Let’s go to your room.”
We walked up the grand sweeping staircase. The house felt entirely different now. The suffocating tension Meredith brought into the walls had vanished, but a new, darker anxiety had taken its place.
In Ava’s bedroom, I drew a warm bath with lavender bubbles. I helped her out of the blue dress she’d been so proud of.
She sat in the water, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Is Daddy mad at me?” she asked quietly.
“Oh, Ava, no,” I said, sitting on the edge of the tub. “He’s not mad at you. He’s mad at Meredith for hurting you.”
“Meredith said my mom is going to go away,” Ava whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
I paused, holding a warm towel. “What do you mean, go away?”
“Meredith told me yesterday. She said Mom is going on a long trip, and I have to go with her. But I don’t want to go. I want to stay with Daddy.”
A cold chill ran down my spine. Sarah, Ava’s mother, shared fifty-fifty custody. She lived ten blocks away. She was a dedicated, fiercely protective mother. She would never take Ava on a surprise trip without telling Dante.
“When did Meredith say this?” I asked.
“When she was packing her red suitcase in the guest room.”
I wrapped Ava in the warm towel and helped her into her favorite cotton pajamas. I tucked her into her massive canopy bed, turning on the little star projector she loved.
“I’ll be right back, honey. I’m just going to get you a glass of water.”
I stepped out into the hallway. The guest room Meredith used as a closet was two doors down.
I pushed the door open. The room was dark, smelling sharply of Meredith’s expensive floral perfume. On the bed sat her red leather travel tote, hastily abandoned when she came down to dinner.
I knew I shouldn't pry. I was just the maid.
But Ava’s terrified voice echoed in my head.
I walked over to the bag and unzipped the front pocket. Inside was a sleek, silver money clip holding a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
Beneath the money was a folded piece of heavy cardstock.
I pulled it out and opened it under the glow of the bedside lamp.
It was a boarding pass for a private charter flight.
The departure was scheduled for tonight. 11:00 PM.
The destination was Zurich, Switzerland.
But it wasn't Meredith’s name on the ticket.
The passenger name read: Sarah Costa.
And clipped directly behind it was a second boarding pass.
Ava Costa.
My breath hitched. Meredith wasn't just trying to get rid of Ava. She had arranged a flight for Ava and her mother to be taken out of the country tonight.
Why would Meredith buy them tickets? Unless she wasn't planning on them ever coming back.
I flipped the tickets over. On the back, written in Meredith’s elegant cursive, was a single line of text.
Payment upon confirmation of permanent disposal.
My blood ran cold. This wasn't a kidnapping. It was a hit.
Suddenly, a heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder from behind.
I gasped, spinning around and dropping the tickets onto the mattress.
It was Marcus, the head of security.
His face was grim, his dark eyes locked onto the boarding passes.
“You shouldn’t be in here, Jenna,” Marcus said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
He reached into his tailored suit jacket. He didn't pull out a radio.
May you like
He pulled out a heavy, black leather belt—the exact same belt I had seen Meredith packing earlier that week.
“Meredith left this behind,” Marcus whispered, stepping closer to me and blocking the door. “And she left very specific instructions about what to do if you didn’t mind your own business.”
