Chapter Seventeen
Mia
By the time we leave the lawyer’s office, my head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton and set on fire…pun completely intended.
Insurance terms.
Claim delays.
Structural assessments.
Inventory lists.
Depreciation.
Temporary housing reimbursement.
Every word sounds important.
Every word also sounds like one more reason I’m not going to see a check anytime soon.
“I hate this,” I mutter as Maverick guides me toward the elevator with one hand at the small of my back.
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do. I mean, maybe you do in your own billionaire crime lord way, but regular people hate insurance in a very specific way.”
His mouth curves slightly. “Billionaire crime lord way?”
“You know what I meant.”
“I enjoyed the phrasing.”
“Of course you did.”
The elevator doors open. We step inside, and I lean back against the wall with a sigh.
The meeting lasted just over an hour, but it felt like a week. The lawyer was kind. Helpful. Very professional. She also used phrases like bad faith and delayed payout and legal pressure, which should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
It made everything feel bigger.
My home is gone.
My sanctuary is gone.
My animals are scattered between other rescues.
And now I have to argue with an insurance company about whether I’m allowed to start putting my life back together.
I’ve already paid to have the entire land wiped clean from what the fire left behind. All I need is my insurance to step up so I can start rebuilding.
Maverick takes my hand as we step into the lobby.
“Tomorrow,” he says.
I look up at him. “What?”
“You’re not thinking about this again until tomorrow.”
“Maverick.”
“Your lawyer has what she needs. Let her do her job.”
“I still have things to do.”
“Yes. Pick up Olivia. Feed her. Let her tell you too many details about her day. And celebrate your birthday.”
I almost smile. “You make it sound easy.”
“No.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “I make it sound necessary. Now, let’s go, birthday girl. I have a surprise for you when we get home.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say, but am secretly giddy that he did. “My birthday isn’t high on the list of things we need to worry about.”
“Oh, how wrong you are, bella,” he says.
Outside, the afternoon sun is too bright. Too normal.
I slide into the passenger seat of Maverick’s SUV and reach for my phone to check the time.
My stomach drops.
“Oh no.”
Maverick’s already behind the wheel. “What?”
“It’s almost pickup time.” I click my seatbelt into place. “Livy gets out in twelve minutes.”
“We’ll make it.”
“You don’t know how crazy school pickup lines can be. They’re lawless places.”
“I have handled hostile negotiations across three continents.”
“Have you handled six minivans, two crossing guards, and a mother in yoga pants who thinks the curb belongs to her?”
His gaze cuts to mine.
I lift a brow.
He starts the engine. “Fair point.”
Despite everything, a small laugh slips out of me.
For a few minutes, I let myself hold on to that. The warmth of his hand over mine. The low rumble of the engine. The simple normal thing waiting at the end of this drive.
My daughter.
Her backpack.
Her wild hair.
Her dramatic retelling of whatever happened at school.
Maybe today she argued with a teacher. Maybe she tried to convince Sabrina that Don Livy needed a deputy. Maybe she bragged about the lunch Rosa packed and declared school food beneath her forever.
I need that.
I need one normal thing.
By the time we pull into the school lot, the pickup line is already wrapped halfway around the building.
“Told you,” I say. “That’s why I always get here early.”
Maverick studies the line. “This is inefficient.”
“This is elementary school.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains everything.”
He parks in the visitor area instead of joining the line.
I hesitate. “We usually just pull through.”
“You’re tired. We’re already late. We’ll go inside.”
I want to argue on principle, but my body doesn’t have the energy.
“Fine.”
The front office is busy when we walk in. Phones ringing. Parents signing kids out. A little boy crying because he forgot his lunchbox. A secretary clicking through something on her computer with the defeated look of a woman who has answered the same question thirty times today.
The familiar smell of floor cleaner and crayons hits me in the chest.
I step to the counter and pick up the pen attached to the clipboard.
“Hi,” I say, writing my name. “I’m here to pick up my daughter. Olivia Moore.”
The secretary looks up.
For half a second, her expression is blank.
Then it changes.
Just slightly.
My hand stills on the pen.
“What?” I ask.
She glances toward Maverick, then back at me. “Olivia Moore?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers move over the keyboard.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Something cold slides down my spine.
Maverick shifts beside me.
The room feels smaller.
The secretary looks at the screen, then at me.
“She was already picked up.”
I blink.
“I’m sorry?”
“She was signed out earlier today.”
My hand opens.
The pen drops against the clipboard with a sharp little clatter.
Maverick’s voice is calm. “By whom?”
The secretary swallows. “I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Let me check—”
“By whom?” he repeats.
I grip the edge of the counter.
“What do you mean she was picked up?” I ask frantically.
A woman in the back office looks over.
The secretary’s face pales. “It says here she was signed out at twelve forty-three.”
“Twelve forty-three?” My voice comes out wrong. Thin. Sharp. “That was hours ago.”
“Yes, ma’am, but—”
“No.” I shake my head. “No. That’s not possible. We didn’t pick her up.”
Maybe someone from the estate.
The thought flashes through my mind, desperate and wild.
Maybe Sabrina got sick. Maybe someone picked up the girls together. Maybe Stefano forgot to tell me. Maybe Luca sent a car.
Maverick already has his phone in his hand.
“Stefano,” he says, voice low into the call. “Do you have Olivia?”
My knees weaken.
I stare at him.
His face doesn’t change, but something lethal moves behind his eyes.
“No,” he says after a beat. “Stay where you are.”
He ends the call but I already know the answer.
My heart starts pounding so hard I hear it in my ears.
I turn back to the secretary. “Who took my daughter?”
“Ms. Moore, please try to stay calm.”
That snaps something inside me.
“Do not tell me to stay calm.” My voice shakes. “My ten-year-old daughter was signed out of this school hours ago without my permission. Who took her?”
The woman from the back office steps forward. “There was identification.”
My blood goes cold.
“What?”
“He had identification,” she says carefully. “Documentation.”
Maverick goes perfectly still beside me.
“He?” Maverick says slowly. “What documentation?”
The woman looks at him, then back at me.
I lean over the counter, tears burning hot and instant.
“Who took my daughter?” I whisper.
No one answers fast enough.
So my voice tears out of me in both anger and fear.
“Who took my daughter?”
“He was on the approved pickup list,” the woman says.
“Not possible.” I shake my head violently. “I’m the only person on that list.”
“No, ma’am. According to our records, there are two people authorized to pick Olivia up. You and Mr. Holsinger.”
Hearing that name, my knees nearly buckle with relief.
“Oh, thank God.” I press a trembling hand against my chest. “I don’t know why he came to get her, and I’m definitely going to have a talk with him about taking her without telling me.
” A broken laugh escapes me. “My goodness, I thought I was gonna pass out. Why didn’t you just say that to begin with? ”
Maverick’s hand settles against my lower back, steadying me.
“Who’s Mr. Holsinger, Amelia?”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and look up at him.
“It’s Rory. It’s only Rory.” I take a shaky breath. “He’s worked for me since she was in diapers. I added him to the list years ago in case there was ever an emergency since we don’t have any family.”
Maverick’s expression remains hard.
“Did you ask him to collect her today?”
“No, but I’m sure there’s an explanation.” I pull my phone from my purse.
The fear is already draining away, leaving behind shaky relief and more than a little irritation.
“I’m calling him right now.”
He answers on the second ring.
“Hey, birthday girl.”
“Rory Holsinger, what in the world were you thinking?”
There’s a short burst of laughter in the background, followed by Livy’s unmistakable voice.
“Mama!”
My eyes fall closed.
Just hearing her voice makes the last of the panic loosen its grip on my chest.
“Livy,” I sigh. “Are you all right?”
“Yep! Rory picked me up early!”
“I know that now, baby.”
“And I’m not supposed to tell you why.”
“Livy,” Rory says in the background.
“What? I didn’t tell her!”
I let out a breathless laugh and lean into Maverick. “Rory, you scared ten years off my life. Why didn’t you tell me you picked her up early?”
“I’m sorry. Taking her early was always part of the plan for today.”
“What plan?”
“I can’t tell you that without ruining the surprise.”
“What surprise?”
“The one I’m not telling you about.”
I sigh, pressing my fingers against my forehead. “Rory.”
“I’m sorry, Mia. Seriously. I thought you and Maverick would have been here by now. I know the bus normally drops Livy off here since the fire, and I assumed you’d be home before anyone realized she hadn’t ridden it.”
“We’ve been picking her up,” I tell him. “But that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t call me.”
“Because I’m an idiot?” he offers. “It honestly didn’t occur to me that you’d go to the school. I’m already here at the estate with her, and she’s perfectly safe.”
“Perfectly safe and apparently keeping secrets from her mother.”
“It’s your birthday,” Livy calls. “Secrets are allowed on birthdays.”
“I’m not certain that’s an actual rule.”
“It is today.”
My legs still feel unsteady, but I finally manage a real smile.
“All right. We’re leaving the school now.”
“Take your time,” Rory says. “Everything’s fine here.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
I end the call and press the phone against my chest.
“She’s safe,” I whisper.
Maverick draws me against him, one arm wrapping firmly around my waist.
“She is,” he agrees, although his body is still rigid with the fear neither of us has quite shaken.
I rest my forehead against his chest.
“I genuinely thought someone had taken her.”
His lips touch the top of my head.
“If someone ever tries, bella, I would stop at nothing to get her back.”
I believe him.
That’s the frightening part.
And, right now, the comforting one.