Relief trickles in, but it doesn’t last long. There’s something off in the way she looks at me—intense, sharp, like she’s calculating something. I shift on my feet, suddenly unsure.
“Cecilia Russo?” Her voice is like ice, slicing through the night air.
I blink, trying to make sense of what’s happening. I don’t respond at first, too busy scanning her face, her posture. She’s older, closer to my mom’s age. Something about her feels familiar, but I can’t place it.
She arches a brow, clearly annoyed by my silence. “Thatisyour name, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” I stammer, my throat dry as I meet her gaze. Where do I know her from?
The woman gives a curt nod, lips pulling into a tight smile. “Jaymin Holt,” she says.Holt.The name hits like a punch to the gut.
Austin’s mother.
I take a step back, instinctively. “What do you want?” My voice shakes.
“To talk about Austin,” she says smoothly, like that explains everything. As if hearing his name doesn’t make my skin crawl.
Panic pulses under my skin. I should have run. But now I’m stuck, frozen in place as she takes a step closer.
“I won’t take much of your time,” she continues, gesturing to the open door of the SUV. “Please.”
There’s something in her tone, like saying ‘please’ costs her something. My instincts scream at me to get away, but I force myself to stay still.If I remember correctly, she’s a lawyer. She isn’t going to assault me or do anything illegal, right?Right.
I just need to look at this logically. She wants to talk, but I don’t have to listen to her. I can say no and walk away. Everyone here is reasonable.
Then the driver’s door opens, and my heart races all over again. A man steps out—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of presence that demands attention. His eyes are cold, assessing, as they land on me. He moves with the kind of careful, precise motions I’ve only seen from fighters or military types.
He nods once at Jaymin and strides around the SUV, coming to stand beside her.
“Get in the car, Ms. Russo,” he says, voice low and authoritative. It’s not a suggestion.
I swallow hard. “I think I’m good here, thanks.”
His expression doesn’t change. “That would be a mistake.”
I take a small step back, pulse racing. My brain screams at me to run, but every instinct tells me I won’t get far. Not with the way he’s watching me, poised to react.
“Mrs. Holt is being patient,” the driver says. “Butmypatience is running thin. I suggest you accept her invitation.”
I glance at Jaymin, whose smile has all but vanished. “I just want to talk,” she says, her tone brittle. “Ten minutes. Then you can be on your way.”
I weigh my options, chewing on my lip.
“You won’t like what happens if you try to run,” the driver says.
“Are you threatening me?” I ask. My eyes flick from him to Jaymin.
“She’s not,” the driver says. “But if that’s what you need in order to comply, then sure.” He shrugs. “I guess I am.”
Alright then. Glad we cleared that up.
Guess I don’t really have a lot of options here. I take a shaky breath and force myself to step forward. “Ten minutes,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
I slide into the backseat, the cool leather chilling my skin. Jaymin follows, settling in beside me, her eyes sharp and unwavering. The driver gets in, and with a quietclick, the doors lock.
My heart stutters as I grip my phone tight, praying this conversation is just that—a conversation.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I tell her. “My attorney wouldn’t want me talking to you.”
