Page 16
Story: Fake Lemons Love and Luxury
“I'll have you there in ten minutes. Meet me out front.”
I grab my things, barely registering my team’s assurances about handling things here. The elevator ride feels endless.When the doors open to the lobby, Sean is already waiting. A figure solid, imposing and ready.
“My car's out front.” He guides me with a hand at my lower back. “Security's been notified. They're keeping Eric in the office.”
“How did they know where he goes to school? How did they—” My voice breaks.
Sean's eyes meet mine, blue and intense. “That's what I'm going to find out.”
Outside, cameras flash as we emerge. Paparazzi crowd the entrance, shouting questions.
“Wren! Are you losing investors?”
“Is it true you stole the idea?”
“What do you have to say about Camille Ross’s accusations?”
Sean pulls me closer, shielding me as we push through to his SUV. Once inside, he guns the engine, leaving the vultures behind.
“Breathe, Wren.” His hand covers mine. “Eric is safe. I won't let anything happen to either of you.”
I nod, throat tight with unshed tears. My phone chimes with a text notification. Unknown number.
A good mother would protect her son better. Tick tock, lemon drop.
I show Sean the screen, my hand trembling.
His jaw tightens, eyes darkening as he reads. “Pack your bags when we get Eric. You're both staying at my place now. Your place’s trailed with paparazzi after the news of the investors’ meeting got out. This isn't a request.”
For the first time in my adult life, I don't argue about being told what to do. Because as the school comes into view, one thought overrides everything else: whoever is behind this has just made their biggest mistake.
They came after my son.
And there is nothing in this world I won't do to protect him.
6
SEAN
The sun sets as I lead Wren and Eric through my front door. I live in the quieter part of L.A. High up, away from all the flashing lights and long lenses. Gated, discreet, cameras hidden in the trees. The kind of place built for men who have reasons to disappear.
My house hasn't felt this alive in years. The boy clutches his dinosaur backpack to his chest, his other hand clutching his mother’s hand, unaware of the chaos of the day. My heart warms at the beauty and simplicity of childhood.
His brown eyes widen as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. Eric points to the mounted screen on the wall.
“You have a big TV. Like us.”
“Perfect for dinosaur documentaries.” I set his small suitcase down. “Your mom says you're an expert.”
He beams. “I know all the names. Even the hard ones.”
“I bet you do.” I ruffle his hair without thinking. The gesture comes naturally, surprising me. I haven’t done that in years since Jen got into middle school and decided it was cringe and she was too cool for that.
Eric, on the other hand, smiles harder, running to sit on the large sofa.
Wren stands in the entryway, shoulders tight with tension. She’s still shaken from the incident.
“Let me show you the guest rooms.” I grab their bags. “Eric, you're upstairs next to your mom.”
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