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?”
