“What about a hotel?” I suggest, voice only slightly strangled. “Somewhere off the grid. Harder to track.”
Luis shakes his head. “Marco already vetoed it. Doesn’t want to scare Ben more than necessary. Thinks moving her to an unfamiliar location during an anxiety spike will make things worse.”
“And if the primary suite isn’t enough?” I press.
Filepe’s expression goes flat. “Then we escalate. But that’s Marco’s call, not ours.”
Fair.
“Drapes are tested,” Luis continues. “White noise machine is queued. Hallway’s been swept.”
The front door opens. Marco’s voice carries down the hall. “Where is she?”
“Kitchen,” Rosa calls back.
I hear his footsteps. Fast. Purposeful. The soundof a man who’s been running worst-case scenarios for the last twenty minutes.
Then he’s in the doorway of the office. Hair slightly messed up. Tie loosened. Jaw tight. That controlled intensity radiating off him that would be extremely hot if I wasn’t currently freaking out.
“Footage?” he asks Filepe.
“Parent who filmed has been ID’d through the school’s nurse-visit log. Elena’s drafting takedown language now, in case the parent posts anything. School admin is cooperating with all requests.”
Marco nods once. Then his eyes find mine. “You did good getting her out.”
My throat goes tight. “She’s still pretty shaken.”
“I know.” He moves past me toward the kitchen. I follow because apparently I’m just part of the entourage now. “I wouldn’t have pulled her early if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
Ben’s still on the counter. Still playing mechanically with the apple slices. But when she sees Marco, something in her face shifts. “Daddy. You’re okay!”
“Hey,piccola.” He lifts her and holds her close. “You’re safe now. I promise.”
She buries her face in his shoulder. Frederick gets squished between them. “I was so worried something bad was going to happen to you.”
Shit. That’s probably my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything about bad people wanting to ‘hurt’ daddy.
Shit shit shit.
Still, I can’t shoulder all the blame, as he’s the one who pulled Ben early. With good reason I suppose, given the four paparazzi vehicles circling outside.
My phone buzzes. Filepe in the group chat.
Fifth vehicle spotted. Recommend shelter-in-place protocol activation within thirtyminutes.
Marco’s already read it. I can see his jaw tighten.
“Let’s give it twenty,” he says quietly, still holding Ben. “See if they disperse first.”
“What do they want?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “My people are still looking into it.”
Rosa brings more cocoa. Luis does another perimeter check. Filepe monitors the camera feeds.
And I stand in Marco’s kitchen watching the red dots multiply on the security screen, wondering how exactly I went from unemployed influencer to nanny to whatever the hell this is.
My phone buzzes again.
