Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GRIFFIN
“Christ, they’re like cockroaches.”
The paparazzi swarmed the gate, cameras flashing against the car’s tinted windows.
I barely glanced up from my phone. Not worth the energy.
They’d get their shots, run their stories, and by the time we landed in Singapore, the internet would be flooded with speculation about whether I was secretly dating a pop star, hiding a drug habit, or, my personal favorite, quitting racing to become a monk.
Beside me, Violet ducked lower in her seat, using her hand to shield her face from the flashes.
“Relax, Princess. It’s not like they know you live with me.”
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Don’t even joke about that.”
She stayed hunched down, watching the flashing lights fade as we left the cameras behind, but the tension never faded from her shoulders. She was tired. We both were, honestly.
Hazel had decided sleep was optional last night, which meant neither of us got much of it.
Violet had tried everything. Pacing the length of the room, whispering soft reassurances, rubbing slow circles into Hazel’s tiny back.
She’d rocked and shushed and hummed, and I’d done my part, mostly watching from the doorway, arms crossed, knowing full well she wouldn’t let me take over.
By the time Hazel finally crashed, it was three in the morning, and Violet had been too wired to go straight to bed.
Which meant she’d barely slept.
I glanced at her now, her posture stiff, eyes still on the window like she was mentally anywhere but here.
I could offer to let her rest on the flight, tell her I’d take Hazel so she could catch up on sleep. But she’d only fight me on it. So I wouldn’t ask.
Instead, I’d wait. Stealthily take Hazel from her the moment I got the chance, let her sit still long enough that exhaustion caught up with her. Let her think it was her idea to close her eyes.
Because Violet and I had one more thing in common. We were both too stubborn for our own good.
And if she wouldn’t let herself stop, then I’d have to find a way to make it happen.
The car slowed to a stop beside the small private jet that would take us to Singapore. Jace made it to my door before I even reached for the handle, an umbrella in his grip. Always three steps ahead.
“Hold this up before she gets out,” he muttered, passing it to me without ceremony. “They’ve still got long lenses near the gate.”
I stepped out first, stretching my legs. Jace gave me a small nod as I snapped the umbrella open, angling it to block the lingering flashes from the fence line.
This wasn’t my usual setup. Normally, I flew commercial—first class, sure—but nothing like this.
The whole private jet thing had never been my style.
I’d spent my career side-eyeing the guys who made a habit of it.
But the idea of Violet flying alone with Hazel, like Selene suggested, hadn’t sat right with me.
She might’ve put on a brave face, but I wasn’t about to let her deal with that alone.
Every day Hazel stayed under the radar was another day where Hazel was just mine, without the world trying to make a story out of her.
So yeah, if holding up an umbrella for thirty seconds kept them guessing a little longer?
I’d hold the damn thing all day.
“Coast is clear, Princess.”
Violet adjusted Hazel’s sling, tightening the strap across her shoulder. My baby girl was still awake but quiet, one tiny fist curled against Violet’s chest. She had that look she got when she was half-asleep but fighting it, blinking slow and heavy, her small mouth parting on a yawn.
Violet glanced up at me, then at the umbrella. She shook her head, a small smile curving her lips up. The moment she stepped onto the concrete, I adjusted the umbrella again, blocking any last-ditch attempts from the press.
Jace was already shutting the car door behind her. “Everything’s already on board,” he said, voice low. “Pram, bags, all of it. Got them delivered earlier, just in case.”
Violet exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing by the smallest fraction.
I didn’t blame her. If the press had spotted us loading baby gear onto the jet, it would’ve set off alarms before we even left the ground.
She gave Jace a small nod. “Thanks.”
“Appreciate it, mate.”
Jace tipped his chin before stepping back, and I turned toward the stairs, guiding Violet with a hand at the small of her back.
She froze mid-step, then turned her head slowly. “When did you decide I was clumsy?”
“Didn’t say you were.” I gestured up the stairs. “Just making sure you don’t trip with my daughter strapped to your chest.”
She scoffed. “I’ve been managing stairs for twenty-six years without your help.”
“First time doing it sleep-deprived with my baby.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are.” I followed her up. “That why you nearly walked into the car door earlier?”
“That was one time.”
“Twice. You also tried to open the fridge this morning and stood there for ten seconds before realizing it was the pantry.”
Her shoulders tensed. “You’re exhausting.”
“And you’re running on two hours of sleep. So forgive me for not trusting your spatial awareness right now.”
She stepped into the cabin and I retracted the umbrella just before stepping inside. The cabin was dimly lit, the overhead lights set low, everything designed for comfort and privacy.
The flight attendant, a woman in her mid-thirties with a sleek ponytail and the calm, efficient energy of someone who’d seen it all, greeted us with a professional smile.
“Mr Michaels, Miss Carter.” Her gaze flicked to Hazel, still tucked snugly against Vi’s chest. “Welcome aboard. Let me know if you need anything.”
Thank fuck for NDAs. Anyone who worked for me or the team had to sign them before being granted any sort of access.
“Appreciate it,” I said.
The pilot, an older guy, sharp-eyed but relaxed, leaned briefly out of the cockpit. “Should be clear skies most of the way,” he said. “Bit of turbulence over the Bay of Bengal, but nothing major.”
I nodded. “Perfect. Thanks.”
He disappeared back inside, and the flight attendant gestured toward the cabin. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
Comfortable was an understatement.
The jet was sleek and modern, the kind of understated luxury that didn’t try too hard but still felt expensive.
Cream leather seats lined both sides of the cabin, wide and plush, the kind that could fully recline with the press of a button.
A polished wood table sat between them, its surface clean except for a neatly folded blanket and a bottle of water.
Violet instantly clocked the small bassinet set up for Hazel, but before she could lower her in, she wrinkled her nose.
“She needs changing.”
I raised a brow. “Already?”
“Yes.” She unclipped the sling and lifted Hazel out, holding her toward me. “I’ll check the bassinet.”
I took the baby and the nappy bag from her, and made my way to the bedroom tucked at the back. The bed was made up with fresh sheets that looked far too pristine for what was about to happen.
I laid Hazel down and unsnapped her onesie. She kicked, making unhappy noises that promised to escalate.
“Yeah, I know. Not thrilled about this either.”
I got to work. Christ. What a waste of a perfectly good bed. But what else was I supposed to do? Let her sit in it for thirteen hours?
By the time I finished and got her back into clean clothes, Violet had everything set up for Hazel.
“Sorted.”
She took Hazel and lowered her into the bassinet. Hazel’s eyes fluttered. Violet brushed the dummy against her lips. She latched on, her tiny mouth working around the silicone, and Violet exhaled like she’d just diffused a bomb.
“What’s with the dummy?” I asked, curious since I’d never seen her use a dummy before.
“I’m hoping it’ll help with the altitude change.” She kept her voice soft, watching Hazel closely.
I raised a brow. “That a real thing, or are you manifesting?”
Violet shot me a look. “Sucking helps relieve the pressure in their ears.”
When the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, Violet straightened up. When she didn’t scream, she took a step back. Sighing, she dragged her fingers through her hair and met my gaze.
I smirked. “Bet you five quid she’s awake before takeoff.”
Violet gave me a flat look. “I don’t bet against the outcome I want.”
“C’mon, let’s take our seats.”
I didn’t wait for her to decide. Just turned and dropped into my seat opposite the bassinet, stretching my legs out in front of me.
Violet hovered, eyes locked on Hazel, watching for the first twitch, the first sign of a cry.
I patted the seat next to me. “Come on, Carter. Let’s enjoy the peace while it lasts.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she finally sank into the seat beside mine.
“Thirteen hours,” she muttered.
I grinned. “You say that like it’s a death sentence.”
She side-eyed me. “It will be if she screams the whole way.”
“She’s fine. You’re worrying over nothing.”
The flight attendant sealed the door with a quiet hiss, shutting out the outside world.
Violet shifted beside me, her arms still crossed as she eyed Hazel like she expected her to start screaming at any moment. She didn’t.
I knocked my foot against hers. “You gonna sit there and stare at her the whole flight?”
She didn’t look away. “If it means she stays asleep, yes.”
I smirked, stretching my legs out in front of me. “Not how it works, Carter.”
“Excuse me for trying to manifest some peace.”
“Manifest all you like. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.” I tilted my head toward her. “Which is probably sooner rather than later, considering her nanny won’t let herself relax.”
She glanced at me, unamused. “I am relaxed.”
“Your arms are crossed so tight I can hear the stitching on your t-shirt begging for mercy.” I raised a brow.
She huffed, loosening her grip, only to lace her fingers together in her lap. “You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”
I grinned. “There’s a queue for that title.”
Her mouth twitched, but she bit it back.