To my surprise, Zane heads toward the back of the house instead of the front door. “Where are we going?” I ask, confusion coloring my voice. “The car’s out front.”
He doesn’t answer, just pushes open the French doors leading to the backyard. The expansive lawn stretches out before us, bordered by towering oak trees.
“Why are we out here?” I press, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
As if in answer, the whir of helicopter blades fills the air, growing louder with each passing second. My eyes widen as I realize what’s happening.
“A helicopter?” I shout over the increasing noise. “In my backyard?”
Zane’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “Well, you don’t have a helipad, Miss Valeur.”
The sleek black chopper descends, touching down in thecenter of the lawn. Grass and leaves whip around us in a frenzy. Zane helps me inside, his grip firm on my elbow. As we lift off, my sprawling property shrinks below us, the lights of the main house growing smaller until they’re just pinpricks in the darkness.
The flight passes in tense silence. I press my forehead against the cool window, watching as we descend toward a white rooftop, a giant H painted in the center.
Rotors slowing, Zane jumps out and extends his hand. I take it, stumbling as my feet hit solid ground.
“Where are we?” I have to shout to be heard over the dying engine noise.
“Novaspan Medical Center,” he replies, leading me away from the helipad.
I frown. “Never heard of it.”
“That’s because this place is completely private and unknown to the public. Only certain social circles come here.”
My chin lifts. “I’m a Valeur. I’m sure we belong to the highest social circle.”
Zane’s expression darkens. “Maybe. And maybe you should be glad you didn’t know about this place until now.”
A man in green scrubs holds open a heavy metal door. Zane nods at him. “Mr. Mercer.”
We descend three flights of stairs, Zane’s footsteps echoing in the confined space. At the bottom, he holds the door for me but doesn’t follow.
“Turn right once you reach the end of this hallway, third door on the left.” He presses something into my palm—a black magnetic card with a gold circle in the center.
“What’s this? You’re not coming with me?”
A small, enigmatic smile plays on his lips. “I’d rather not be seen here right now. You have two hours to get back to theroof, then I’m taking you to your father. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat. “Thank you,” I whisper, but he’s already gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
The hallway stretches before me, sterile and white. I follow Zane’s directions, my heart pounding harder with each step. At the third door, I pause, my fingertips resting on the cool metal handle.
I take a deep breath, teeth worrying my lower lip. What lies beyond this door? Is Ryder okay? Will he even want to see me after everything that’s happened?
Before I can lose my nerve, I press the handle.
Thirty-Four
CORA
Ipress the handle, but the door is locked.
I fumble in my pocket for the black card Zane gave me. As I examine it, trying to figure out where it should go, heavy footsteps approach from behind.
“Who are you?” a stern voice demands. I turn to face a large woman in green scrubs, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes narrow, suspicion etched into every line of her face. “What are you doing here?”
I straighten my spine, summoning every ounce of the Valeur confidence that’s been drilled into me since childhood. “I’m Cora Valeur,” I declare, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’m here to see Ryder West.”
