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“He confirmed what Valentina said?” my father asks.
I nod. “We need to get to London until we get a handle on this. New York is dripping with thirsty killers wanting our heads.”
“Why me? I don’t need to go anywhere. They don’t want me dead,” Valentina says, shaking her head.
“Dex also got word that Jar Omar is coming after you. He’s pissed.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth gaps open. “Because I turned down a job? You turned down the same job. Why isn’t he coming after you?”
I tilt my head and give a smirk. “He’s not a dumb man. He knows better than that.”
“Oh, so because I’m a woman—”
“Because he thinks he can get away with it. We’ll make sure we prove him wrong on that.” I reach for her hand to pull her along as we’ve been standing in one spot for long enough. “In London. We’ll come up with a plan in a place where a red dot won’t be resting between our eyes.”
My father doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s walking beside me with his phone to his ear, giving orders to his men on how to proceed. I can hear him commanding that they meet him at the airport to travel to London with us. I’m happy for this. Though we are acting fast, there is no guarantee that we won’t have an army of people waiting at the airport to kill us as we arrive.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Valentina says, digging her feet into the ground, yanking her arm back. “I’m not going to simply hop on a plane and fly to another country on a moment’s notice.”
I yank her back by my side and continue walking. “That is exactly what you’re going to do.”
“I’m wearing a ballgown for god sakes!”
“And I’m wearing a tux.” I try to give her a playful wink even though I’m feeling far from playful. “We know how to travel in luxury, baby. Elegant.”
My father quickly has a car arriving for us, and we hop into the back without another word from Valentina. I don’t think she’s being compliant or even agreeing with leaving, but she’s smart enough to know that causing a scene will only draw more attention to us. But the minute we are safely in the vehicle, she changes all that.
“Take me home. I can deal with Omar on my own.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my father says, surprising me he’s not willing to simply drop her off and be done with her.
“If Dex feels you need to leave with us, then we listen,” I add.
“I know how to stay under the radar,” she begins.
“You’re coming with us. Final,” I snap, issuing her a look that makes it very clear I’m not fucking around. “If I have to tie you up, gag you, and force you on the plane myself, I will.”
She opens her mouth to argue, glances at my father, then at me, and quickly closes it. She then stares out the window at the passing scenery and doesn’t say anything more.
Chapter Sixteen
VALENTINA
The black sedan guns the gas, speeding away as soon as Atlas pulls me out of the back seat. I’d tried to stay inside so that Sebastian Rossi’s chauffeur could drop me back at my apartment, but Atlas wasn’t having any of it.
“This is insane,” I shout over the already idling jet he is pulling me toward. “The hitmen are after you and your father. I don’t believe that Omar is truly going to try to kill me.”
“You don’t know that,” he argues. When I continue to tug against his hold, he leans down, jamming his shoulder into my stomach knocking the breath out of me, and lifts me over his shoulder. I gasp for air while pounding his lower back as he takes off jogging the final few feet before taking the jet bridge steps two at a time.
From my upside-down position, I see the security guard who’d been traveling with us standing guard at the bottom of the steps, his weapon drawn as he searches the airport grounds surrounding the private jet looking for threats.
I appreciate the waft of warm air from the plane’s interior as soon as Atlas rushes inside. I’d been in such a hurry to leave to warn them that I’d left my apartment without even a coat or shawl. I’m just grateful I’ve managed to hold onto my clutch purse. It may only have a few items, thankfully one of those is my cell phone.
Atlas stoops down again, this time lowering my feet to the carpet as he leans into me, shoving my ass into a leather seat. His hands pull the safety belt across my waist as he yells to the pilot, “Get us off the ground!”
Only when he steps away from me do I get my first look at the plane’s interior. It’s like stepping into the middle of a movie since it was only in films where I’ve seen the kind of opulence on display. Plush leather loveseats and couches form several seating pods. I’m facing the back of the plane and can see a wall of built-in shelves with books, photos, along with a huge flatscreen TV flanked by two crystal vases full of fresh-cut flowers. Glass doors cover the front of the shelves, there to keep the items from flying around while in flight I assume. A closed door at the far right tells me there is more plane hidden behind the wall.
