It makes me smile. “Yes. Addison, text Kendall and let her know what’s going on right now, so then someone is aware.”
She does what I said without hesitation. Once the message is sent, I open the door and wait for her.
Addison steps out with her camera-ready smile sliding into place like a mask. I follow and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close as we walk toward the SUV. To the photographers across thestreet, this needs to look like a planned late-night departure. Nothing dramatic.
One of the guards opens the door for her, and she slides in. I follow, lifting my hand in a casual wave to the photographers before the door shuts behind us. The locks click automatically, and the tinted windows block out the flashing lights. The silence is immediate.
“Your phone, Miss Cross,” the guard in the front seat says, reaching his hand out.
She turns it off, then hands it to him. He pockets it.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Teterboro. There’s a plane waiting for us. We’ll leave soon after we arrive, Your Highness.”
I exhale. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
The response doesn’t settle me. The SUV pulls away from the curb. Addison’s fingers find mine in the dark, and neither of us speaks.
My father sent for us.
The thought keeps circling in my mind, and it’s demanding attention that I don’t want to give.
Addison leans close and whispers in my ear, “You’re overthinking.”
“I know,” I say, giving her a small smile.
I can’t get over why my dad would suddenly send guards to New York in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency situation.
Eventually, we stop in front of a private hangar at the airport, where a jet waits on the tarmac with the Montclaire crest on the tail and engines already running.
Another SUV pulls up behind us, and Davis steps out with two guards at his back. His jaw is set, but his posture stays controlled as he falls into step beside us on the tarmac.
“These arseholes pulled me out of the theater,” he says. “Didn’t even let me finish the show.”
“How far did you get?”
“Right before the duel.” He shakes his head as we walk toward the plane. “Waited my whole life for that, and they dragged me out at intermission.”
“Hate to break it to you, but Hamilton dies.”
“I’m aware of the historical record, Your Highness. It’s about theexperience.” He glances at the guards flanking us. “So, what’s the situation? Why are we being extradited?”
“My father.” The words feel strange in my mouth because they still don’t make sense. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“Uh-oh.”
“My thoughts.”
Davis processes this for a moment, but doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. I’m grateful because I don’t have an answer.
The cabin smells of leather and the faint sweetness of jet fuel. A flight attendant greets us with a smile that meets her eyes, and she gestures toward the seats. The carpet is plush beneath my shoes, and the overhead lights cast everything in an amber glow.
“We’ll depart shortly.”
Addison and I take the seats near the back while Davis settles across the aisle. The guards position themselves at the front of the cabin with their backs to us, giving us the illusion of privacy.
