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Well, that’s freaking ominous! There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to sleep. Not when I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Instead, I look out of the window, watching the clouds pass by. Kieran works on his phone the entire time, taking a phone call once about a shipment. I’m surprised that he's openly talking about work things in front of me. Most Made Men are tightlipped in front of women when it comes to the business side of things. Of course, he might plan to kill me. I guess it wouldn’t matter what he said around me if that were the case.
My stomach roils and I unbuckle.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
Kieran glances up. “In the back.”
I rush toward the back of the jet, finding the bathroom. I loathe airplane bathrooms because they aren’t made to accommodate curvy people. This one is more spacious than most, but there’s still not much room as I bend over the toilet and vomit. When I’m done, I flush the toilet. Closing the lid, I sit on it, leaning my head against the wall.
When I was little, my mom would always hold my hair when I was sick. After, she would tuck me into bed, putting a cool cloth over my forehead. My favorite part was that she would make sure I had a citrus soda and crackers, which was a big deal since we weren’t allowed to drink caffeinated beverages. It’s strange that this is one of my fondest memories of her.
Sometimes I like to play a little game with myself about what my life would look like if she hadn’t died. Would she and my dad still be married? I think they would because they loved each other so much. Would my sisters and I have been sold off like cattle to the highest bidder? No, I don’t think so. I think my mom would have told my dad no and he would have listened. She was the only person in this world that could reason with him.
There’s a knock on the door, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m feeling much better now, thank you. I’ll be out in a moment.”
I stand, turning on the water to wash my hands. When I’m finished, I dry them and open the door. Kieran is still there and hands me a bottle of water.
“Thanks.”
He doesn’t answer, and goes back to his seat, sitting. I do the same and nurse the bottle of water. At some point I doze off because the next thing I know I’m waking with a blanket draped over me. Reaching behind my neck, I touch the spot where the tracking device was removed, only to find it covered with a bandage. Kieran is on his phone and doesn’t acknowledge me, which is fine, but I’m pretty sure he’s the one who covered me and put the bandage on.
Looking out the window, I see the New York City skyline. My chest is tight. We’re back, and I’m still not sure what’s going to happen. The jet lands and we make our way to a waiting SUV. There’s a small part of me that hopes my father is going to be waiting for us, but he’s not there. He likely doesn’t even know what’s happened. Kieran says nothing as we leave the city, crossing over into Staten Island. I guess it makes sense that this is where we’re going, since this is one borough he rules over. I don’t know why I’m surprised that he lives here, but I am. I expected him to live in Manhattan in a high-rise. Maybe that’s because his office is in Manhattan.
We arrive at his home that sits atop Todt Hill. His house is massive, and I stare up at it in awe. Kieran brushes past me and snaps his fingers when he reaches the front door. I hurry to follow him. Inside, a man who looks closer to my age than Kieran’s awaits us. I’m pretty sure it’s the same man who showed me into Kieran’s office the last time.
“This is my second in command, Sebastian. Do not bother him with trivial shit. Understand?” Before I can answer, he says, “He’ll show you to your room. I expect you in my office in thirty minutes.”
He walks off. His Italian loafers hitting the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room.
Sebastian has blond hair with hints of red in it. He’s wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks. There’s a pin on the collar of his shirt that is the same one Kieran wears. A tentacle. I wonder what the meaning is.
Sebastian turns to me, smiling. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Triton.”
“You know who I am?”
“I know all of Kieran’s business, and I was there the night you came to see him a few months ago.”
Well, I guess that answers that question.
My cheeks are warm. “Oh. Well, call me Ari, please.”
“As you wish, Ari. Now, come this way. I’ll give you the tour before showing you to your room.”
I follow him past the foyer to a grand living room.
“The house is a Tudor inspired home. There are nine bedrooms and thirteen bathrooms. Kieran has captured the spirit of the era in each room.” He points up. “Notice the millwork stylized ceilings.”
He rattles on about gleaming hardwood floors, formal and informal living rooms, a dining room that seats fifty, and an entertainment room that boasts a beautiful library with several first editions. There’s a full staff here, from a chef to maids to gardeners. In the kitchen, he points out the fifteen-foot-long island. An older man works at the stove and nods his head at me when Sebastian introduces us.
We take a stairway in the kitchen to the second floor.
“Kieran’s room is down this hallway, but you will stay in the east wing.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Thank god.
