Chapter 2 - The Crossing to Rome
For twenty minutes, no one in first class made a sound.
Leo nursed until his tummy was full, his tiny hand remaining firmly hooked into the fabric of my sweater. Soon, his breathing turned deep and sweet, his body completely limp in my lap, asleep at last.
I gently burped him against my shoulder, supporting his head, before buttoning my blouse. When I looked up, Julian was watching me. The coldness in his eyes had melted, replaced by an intense, lingering wonder.
“His mother...” Julian began, his voice raspy. He stopped, swallowing hard. “She died three weeks ago. Complications after childbirth. She... she couldn't nurse him either, but she held him against her skin every hour she had left.”
My heart aching for the motherless child, I looked down at Leo’s soft cheeks. “He remembered,” I whispered. “Babies don't forget that warmth, Mr. Vane. Formula in a plastic bottle at thirty thousand feet just felt like abandonment to him.”
Julian nodded slowly, wiping a tired hand over his face. He reached out, his long fingers gently brushing Leo’s soft peach-fuzz hair.
“You said you were flying to Rome?” Julian asked softly.
“Yes.”
“And your daughter is in row fourteen?”
“Yes. Maya. She’s three.”
Julian turned to his bodyguard, who was standing quietly in the aisle. “Marcus. Move Ms. Vance and her daughter up here immediately. Clear seats 1A and 1B.”
“Mr. Vane, I can’t accept—” I began to protest.
“You just saved my son’s life, Clara,” Julian said, his gray eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “You aren't sitting in economy for the rest of this flight. That isn't a request.”
Ten minutes later, Marcus gently carried a sleeping Maya into first class, laying her down on the plush, reclining leather seat beside me. I gently laid Leo down in the bassinet beside his father, but as I turned to sit beside my daughter, Julian spoke again.
“Where are you staying in Rome, Clara?”
I felt a sudden, cold panic spike in my chest. The fake hotel reservation I had booked on my credit card was only good for two nights. After that, my remaining savings amounted to less than four hundred dollars.
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“I... I haven't finalized the details yet,” I lied, looking down at my shoes.
Julian’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't push, but the way he looked at my solitary suitcase resting under the footrest told me he knew I was running from something terrible.
