Page 23

The moment I settle onto the soft leather seat, warmth envelops me. I’m exhausted, hungry, and running on nothing but adrenaline that is dwindling every hour. All I want is some water, a hot shower, and something to eat, but I need to make it just a little bit longer.

The guard shuts the door behind me and gets into the driver’s seat. He accelerates down the long, winding road, takes a left at a fork, and a few minutes later we come upon another gate that opens as we arrive. We drive farther into the sprawling estate until a house emerges through the trees.

My lips part, my eyes widening. This house is…breathtaking.

The mansion is bigger than any home I’ve ever seen. Weathered terracotta walls are adorned with vibrant vines, and wrought-iron balconies overflow with colorful flowers. A grand stone fountain stands proudly at the center of the circular drive, surrounded by pristine white blooms that seem to glow against the lush greenery.

The SUV rolls to a stop before the massive entrance, the guard jumping out and quickly opening my door. I step down, adjusting the straps of my bag over my shoulders.

“Right this—” His phone rings, grabbing his attention. He pulls it out of his pocket, glances at the screen, and brings it to his ear. A moment passes before he says, “Yes, sir. I’ll be there in five.” He ends the call, and his gaze flicks to me, then to the front door, before settling back on me. “I have to get back to the gate, but Francesca’s inside. Head up the stairs, take a right, and it’s the third door on the right. I’ve already let her know you’re coming.”

He steps toward the front door, pressing his hand against a scanner, and the massive dark piece of wood swings open. With a nod, he turns and heads back to the SUV, jumping inside and quickly disappearing down the driveway.

I turn and stare at the open doorway.

Here goes nothing.

Drawing a steady breath, I step inside, my eyes immediately drifting over the foyer. Honey-colored stone, exposed wood beams, and touches of gold give the home an effortless elegance. The setting sun pours through towering windows, dancing across polished floors, while a sweeping stone staircase curves gracefully to the second level.

A loud cry cascades down from the second floor, echoing in the silence. My heart rate spikes as I move toward the staircase, my trembling fingers curling around the banister as I climb. “Francesca?”

The crying only grows louder with each step I take.

Reaching the second floor, I turn right and follow the sound until I stop outside the third door on the right that’s partially open.

“Oh, honey, what can I do to make you stop crying?”

I peek inside and see an older woman with silver-streaked hair pacing the room with a small child in a pink onesie cradled against her chest. She gently rocks the little girl in her arms, rubbing soothing circles over her back, but nothing seems to stop the tears streaming down her red cheeks.

Straightening my shoulders, I swallow down my nerves and push the door fully open, stepping inside. “Francesca?”

The woman spins on her flats, her eyes wide. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” Relief passes over her features as she steps toward me. “She’s having a rough day. I think she just wants her daddy.” Without a second thought, she holds the little girl out for me to take.

“Umm…” Tears run steadily down the little girl’s face, her tiny hands curling into fists.

“I promise she doesn’t bite,” Francesca says with one side of her lips curving up.

Hesitantly, I take the child into my arms, tucking her carefully against my chest. My palm lands softly on her back, rubbing in a gentle circular motion. “I-it’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”

“Mr. Alarie should be home shortly, but everything for Clara is in here or in the kitchen. He has meticulous instructions on the fridge. He likes everything perfect for his daughter.” She smiles warmly and pulls out her phone from her pocket, glancing at the screen. His daughter? I freeze, staring down at the little girl. Alex has a daughter? “Oh, dear.” She slips on her jacket and hurries toward the door. “I’m late starting the roast for Mrs. Alarie. I must be going.” Mrs. Alarie? Alex is married? The room tilts as my knees weaken. I didn’t… I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve put his wife and daughter in danger by being here.

“Wait,” I call out as Clara rubs her tear-soaked cheeks against me, her little fingers gripping my hoodie in a tight hold. “I think there’s been—”

Before I can finish, Francesca disappears through the doorway, her footsteps fading down the hall, leaving me alone…with Alex’s child.

What am I supposed to do now?

A rocking chair is placed in the corner, so I approach it and lift the puppy stuffed animal from the seat, holding it before us.

“Squish!” Clara sobs, reaching for it with her little hands.

I give it to her, and she hugs it to her chest, her cries slowly quieting into soft sniffles.

I lower myself onto the seat, gently swaying with Clara, who becomes calmer by the second, her head nuzzling into the crook of my neck.

“Are you fighting sleep, sweet girl?” I whisper. “Is that what the problem is?”

As if to answer me, she lets out a soft yawn, rubbing her eyes. I smile, smoothing my hand down her back. “I did not think this was how my day was going to end up, but I’m not complaining.” Her body grows heavy, her breathing settling into a soft, steady rhythm. I peek down, finding her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted.