CHAPTER 2 — THE MESSAGE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
I thought he was joking.
Or mistaken.
Or maybe this was some kind of billionaire paranoia I didn’t understand.
But Marcus Whitmore wasn’t smiling anymore.
Not even slightly.
His phone stayed pressed to his ear as the plane began its descent into Chicago. Around us, passengers shifted in their seats, gathering bags, preparing for landing.
Normal things.
Ordinary things.
But nothing about Marcus felt ordinary now.
“Confirm the perimeter,” he said quietly into the phone.
A pause.
Then:
“No media access. No terminal exposure.”
Another pause.
His jaw tightened.
“I want eyes on every exit.”
My stomach twisted.
I leaned closer.
“Marcus… what’s going on?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Not because he was ignoring me.
Because he was deciding something.
Then he turned to me.
And everything in his expression softened—just slightly.
But the seriousness didn’t leave.
“It’s not the right time to explain,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
Annie shifted in my arms, still asleep.
I held her tighter.
“What do you mean someone found me?” I whispered.
Marcus looked away for a second.
Then back at me.
“It means your name was flagged in a system I thought was no longer active.”
That didn’t help.
It made it worse.
Because it meant there was a system.
The plane wheels touched down.
The cabin jolted slightly.
And suddenly, everything felt like it was moving too fast.
Too irreversible.
Marcus stood as soon as we stopped.
Not rushed.
Controlled.
Like someone who had done this before.
Many times.
Too many times.
He turned to me.
“Stay close to me when we exit,” he said.
“That’s not a suggestion.”
I wanted to ask more.
I wanted to demand answers.
But something in his voice stopped me.
Not fear.
Command.
The kind that meant danger was already close.
And then I saw it.
Men in dark suits outside the terminal glass.
Waiting.
Watching.
Not random.
Not airport staff.
Security.
But not mine.
Not normal security.
Marcus noticed them too.
His expression hardened.
“Too fast,” he muttered.
He looked at me.
A decision formed instantly.
“Emily,” he said quietly.
“I need you to trust me again.”
I frowned.
“Again?”
He gave a faint, almost tired smile.
“You already did once on the plane.”
Then he said something I didn’t expect.
“Hold Annie. Don’t look around. Walk exactly where I walk.”
Before I could respond—
May you like
he took my hand.
And we moved.
