Chapter 21
Remy
I’ve been stuck in the penthouse for a week. It’s a very nice prison. But it’s still a prison.
The worst part? I can work remotely, so there’s no legitimate reason I need to leave. Which means I’m trapped in luxury while the world continues without me.
My phone buzzes. Mom’s face fills the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Remy.” Her tone has that edge that means I’m in trouble. “Why haven’t you come by to see your father?”
The guilt hits instantly. Dad. I haven’t seen him since before Paris because I’ve been too consumed with Trent, security threats, and feeling suffocated by protection I didn’t ask for.
“I’ve been slammed with work.”
“Too busy to visit for an hour?” She’s not buying it. Moms are impossible to fool. “He’s still recovering from his surgery. Your father asks about you every day. I think a visit from you would really cheer him up.”
My throat tightens. I can’t tell my parents that the triplets are trying to protect me from a dangerous threat. That will just worry them, and they have enough to worry about. “Really, Mom, I’ve just been busy at work. I’m not avoiding him.”
“Can you come and see him today?”
“Yes.” I feel myself relenting, because I really do miss my parents. “This afternoon. I promise.”
When we hang up, I’m already moving. The triplets are in Ansel’s home office on a call because of some emergency meeting with Singapore that started an hour ago and shows no signs of ending.
There are security guards everywhere, but I assume they’ve been given instructions to keep people out, not to keep me in. Hopefully, I can get out of here easily without interrupting my guys. I know this meeting is important.
The security guards question me on my way out, but I confirm I won’t be gone long.
If they have to follow me, I assume they’ll tell Ansel, and it will just delay my visit.
So I tell them there’s no need for security.
Besides, the last thing I want to do is show up at my parents’ house with security guards trailing me. They will have too many questions.
From what the guys have told me, my parents’ house is being guarded, too. Subtly, so my parents don’t know. So, once I’m there, security will be protecting me again. I can see my parents and get back within a couple of hours.
But to be safe, I won’t take my own car, just in case it’s being tracked.
I pull out my phone and text the group chat, so that they don’t worry.
Me: Went to see my parents. I’ll be back soon.
The rideshare app shows a car three minutes away. I confirm the pickup and head for the garage exit that bypasses the main lobby.
Guilt hits hard as I slide into the backseat of a silver sedan. They’ve spent a week protecting me, and I’m sneaking out like a teenager. But I can’t shake the image of Dad asking Mom why I haven’t visited.
The driver confirms my name and the destination, and we pull away from the curb.
The city gives way to suburbs, buildings replaced by trees and houses with actual yards. Normal lives. Normal problems. The kind of existence I used to have before Damon, before the brothers, before Stanley Trent decided I was worth threatening.
We’re about five minutes from my parents’ house when I spot my favorite coffee shop from high school. The little place with the good pastries where I used to study for exams.
“Actually, can you pull over here?” I lean forward. “I want to grab coffee for my parents.”
The driver nods and pulls into the small parking lot.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I climb out, already thinking about what to order. Dad likes his coffee black, Mom prefers lattes. Maybe some of those almond croissants they used to make.
I send a quick text to my mom as I walk toward the entrance.
Me: Stopping for coffee first. Be there soon.
The coffee shop is exactly as I remember it. It has the same mismatched chairs, the same chalkboard menu, and the same smell of fresh-roasted beans. For a moment, I forget about Trent and threats and security protocols. I’m just Remy, getting coffee for her parents.
I order at the counter—two coffees, one latte, three croissants—and then I wait near the pickup area. My phone buzzes again. Ansel. I’ll call him back in just a minute.
“Remy?”
I turn at my name. The barista holds up my order with a smile.
“Thanks.” I grab the drink carrier and the pastry bag, juggling both as I push through the door.
The parking lot is quiet. A few cars are scattered around.
I’m halfway to where the rideshare driver is waiting when I hear footsteps behind me. Fast footsteps.
I turn, but I’m not quick enough.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, one hand clamping over my mouth before I can scream. The coffee and pastries hit the pavement. I thrash, trying to break free, but whoever has me is too strong. I slam my heel back, aiming for a knee, but my captor anticipates the move and twists away.
I bite down hard on the hand covering my mouth. The grip loosens for just a second, and I manage to suck in enough air to scream. The hand clamps down harder, cutting off my voice. I’m dragged backward toward a dark van, its side door already open.
My phone falls from my pocket, skittering across the asphalt.
A second man appears from behind the van and deliberately crushes my phone under his boot.
No. No, no, no.
A cloth presses against my face, chemical-sweet and suffocating. My vision blurs at the edges. I try to fight, try to stay conscious, but the world is tilting sideways.
The last thing I see before everything goes black is the crushed remains of my phone and spilled coffee spreading across the pavement.