Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
SALVATORE
With my heart trapped in my throat, I wait until I’ve boarded my chartered flight before texting Jill. She messaged this morning to say she wants twenty-five million, and I have to say it surprised me. It was less than I thought. Not that I had plans to give her anything.
SALVATORE: No deal. I don’t trust you. See you in court.
I don’t get a message in return, not that I expected it. I figured I’d have to wait until our plan plays out before finding out if she took the bait.
Considering I only got the alert about Keeley’s and my relationship going public at halftime, I’m pleased to note that I’m already on a flight home by the time the Storm game is over, with more alerts coming through.
Storm wins by three points.
A close call but a victory all the same.
I wish I had it in me to celebrate. Especially when one of the alerts shows an ecstatic-looking Beckett—an expression I rarely see on his face. If I’d stayed, I would have been there. I would have been closer to Keeley.
But our plan never would have worked.
A few more alerts ping my phone—more highlights from the game, making me feel worse—and I’m about to put my phone away when Keeley’s beautiful face comes onto the screen.
Jesus. Fuck. My pulse spikes.
She went to the game.
She’s speeding up the process.
She leaked the news early.
And now she’s making sure the Mikklesons know where she is by joking around with Zane.
Fuuck, she’s brilliant. A pain in my ass, but brilliant.
I’ll bet she’s thinking our relationship status will garner more attention from the Mikklesons if they think I’m still in New York.
And I hate that she’s not wrong. Austin confirmed they weren’t tracking me there.
Most likely because they knew the two places I’d be—home or the office.
And let’s face it, it’s not me they want to attack.
They want to push me far enough so I’ll make their problems all go away.
There’s a big difference between ten years and a lifetime, and people will do crazy things when they feel trapped.
I understand what Keeley’s attempting to do, but I don’t like it.
After blowing out a breath, I bring up her number and press call, tapping my foot as I wait for her to answer. But of course, she doesn’t. That was the deal. We agreed not to speak after the article was released, in case we somehow ruined the plan.
The fucking plan.
I’m an idiot. Why the hell did I agree to this? To leave the woman I love without any protection while pissing off the people who want to hurt me.
I drop the phone to the seat beside me and massage my temples, digging my thumbs in deep, while my mind whirs.
What the fuck do I do?
A pit forms in my stomach as I let my thoughts drift back to the plan Keeley proposed, trying to remain calm.
…
“What if you use me as bait?” she states plainly, not an ounce of humor in her tone, and I almost laugh.
“I’d ask what you mean, but I can already tell you the answer is no.”
“Wait. Hear me out.”
My shoulders sink at her pleading gaze, and like always, I can’t say no to her. “I’m listening.”
Keeley smiles, before sitting taller, her expression fierce as she speaks. “Our relationship is private, right? Other than our close friends and family at the wedding, no one knows we’re together. That is to say, it hasn’t hit the gossip columns yet.”
“Why would it ever hit the gossip columns?” I ask, my brows furrowed while Keeley laughs.
“You have no idea what an eligible bachelor you are, do you?”
“Okay, so the news isn’t public.”
“Exactly. The Mikklesons want to hurt you or Camilla, only everyone you love dearly is being guarded by security.”
“Not everyone…” I trail off, because while now is not the time to throw the L word around, I can see what she’s getting at. “You want us to go public so the Mikklesons will turn their attention to you?”
“Yes.” She pauses before adding the kicker, “While you’re in New York.”
“No fucking way.” I stand, running a hand through my hair. “The only way I’d ever agree to that plan is if I’m here in San Francisco.”
“Okay. We can brainstorm the details. But I really think it could work.”
I stare at her for a beat, my eyes dropping to her beautiful smile as she stares back at me, and I hate that she might be on to something.
“Let me do this to protect Paige and Isaac.” Her expression softens. “To protect your business. Camilla and Marc. You. Please. I want to help.”
She straightens, her eyes never once wavering from mine, and it’s hard to argue with the determination set in her gaze.
“If we do this, we have to plan out every single detail.”
“I agree. And we have to keep it between us.”
“I’ll need to tell Austin, but other than that, yes.” I swallow a lump in my throat, my chest tight while I question my sanity.
Meanwhile, Keeley giggles. She fucking giggles.
“You don’t have to look so worried.” She stands up to cup my cheek. “It’s going to be fine.”
…
Famous last words.
It’s not fine because none of this was part of the plan. She’s gone rogue.
The plan was for me to be on the plane by the time the article leaked. I was supposed to be in San Francisco before Austin’s informant casually dropped the news to the Mikklesons.
Instead, I’m hours away.
We had a plan and… No. We have a plan. While the goalposts have moved, the plan’s still the same. I just have to play my part, and it will all be okay.
Grabbing my phone again, I call Tabitha to keep up my end of the deal, holding my breath as the phone rings.
“Mr. D’Angelo. How’s New York?”
“It’s great, thank you. All going well. Remember that tentative meeting I asked you to hold off on?”
“Yes. I have it flagged in my emails.”
“Great. Can you please book it in? For ten a.m.”
“Is that San Francisco or New York time?”
“San Francisco. Thank you.” I need Austin to know what time I’m arriving in San Francisco. The meeting tomorrow morning is a cover for my landing time tonight.
“Okay.” I hear typing before she tells me it’s done, a smile in her voice.
“Thanks, Tabitha. I appreciate it.”
“Anything else I can help you with?”
“Not at this time. I’ll let you know if that changes. For now, enjoy your Sunday.”
“Thank you, I will. Go Storm,” she cheers.
“Go Storm.” I try to match her enthusiasm, but my heart isn’t in it, and I’m not sure that’s going to change until I land. I’m completely helpless while I’m up in the air.
You’d think I was moving backward with how slow time passes, and as we touch down at San Francisco International, I’m more anxious than I’ve ever been in my life, and I’ve been through a lot.
Since I’m ninety percent sure the Mikklesons have a tail on Jeffrey too, I make my way to the taxi stand for the first time since I was in college and take a cab.
I have no idea if the Mikklesons have access to my cards or accounts, and I’m not taking any chances.
As it is, I negotiated with the flight charter company to pay double their normal rate if I can wire the money tomorrow.
Am I being overcautious? Maybe. But I’d rather that than ruin it all because of a stupid error. As of right now, Daniel’s buying dinner at a fancy restaurant in New York under my name, using my personal credit card.
I didn’t get where I am today without paying attention to detail.
Power will only get you so far.
The risks are too high to fuck around anymore.
If our plan fails, Keeley… Fuck. Emotion clogs my throat and I swallow it back down. I can’t think about that now.
It’s after ten thirty when I’m finally in a cab on the way to our house, the ominous darkness filling my head with doubts.
I’m close to calling Keeley again when Austin accepts my meeting request, and my world stills, with only the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
The plan worked. Yet, I have no idea if I’m going to make it on time.
“Can you take a left on Anderson? It’ll be faster,” I ask the driver, bouncing my knee anxiously, as my phone vibrates in my hand.
“I don’t know,” my driver responds, his words slow as if we have all the time in the world.
“Why?” I grate with a smile, careful not to piss him off.
“There’s reports of an accident at the corner of…” His voice trails off as I internally groan, my eyes dropping to my phone to find a message from unknown—a.k.a. Jill or her people.
UNKNOWN: You might want to check on your projects—vandals are rife at this time of night.
For the briefest of seconds, my heart seizes, but I don’t have time to worry about that. I can rebuild in New York. It’s Keeley that needs me.
SALVATORE: They’re just buildings. They’re replaceable.
UNKNOWN: Is your girl?
Fuck. A tremor runs through me as I close my eyes. This is what we wanted, but God, I feel nauseous.
“Can you drive any faster?” I try to keep my voice calm, but it wavers slightly and my driver smiles.
“Of course, but it’ll cost you.”
“Anything. Just go.”
He nods before putting his foot down to speed through the back streets, only slowing when we’re on a main road. I allow myself one more moment of panic before I blow out a breath and rid myself of useless emotions, preparing to do what I have to do.
“Just here,” I tell the driver when we arrive near the beach house, handing over a wad of cash as I jump out of the cab, then dump my carry-on by the side of the road.
I duck into the shadows of the house next door—knowing they’re not home—and make my way closer.
The street is eerily quiet as I walk toward our fence, my jaw clenched so tightly it should hurt, only I can’t feel a thing. I’m numb to the pain, my focus on ensuring Keeley’s okay.
I slip around the garden and hide behind my car, only then letting myself breathe now that I’m close. I made it. I’ll be ready for if and when they?—
Keeley’s scream pierces the air, and the blood rushes from my body as I take off in a run, adrenaline coursing through me. They were faster than we thought.