Page 14

Besides, I suspected my mother was already looking for me.

Flying private would alert her immediately to my whereabouts, and it wouldn’t take her long to track me down in Hong Kong with her resources.

Flying commercial, on the other hand, might buy me some time—long enough for her to believe I was still in Shanghai.

I tried to stay aware of my surroundings, scanning for anyone following us.

So far, I hadn’t noticed anyone suspicious—but it was only a matter of time before someone found me.

The fact that no one had yet led me to wonder if I had managed to shake off the two hundred pairs of eyes on my payroll. Still, I knew that wasn’t very likely.

Over the years, I’d lost count of how many people my mother and Dave had hired for my security. All I knew was that it never seemed to be enough. And yet, somehow, I didn’t feel like anyone was watching, following or protecting us now.

And Trevon? He didn’t have security of his own. He didn’t believe in it.

“Can they track your phone?” I asked, my voice low.

I frowned as I watched Trevon turn on the navigation app on his phone and type in ‘airport’.

“Why would someone track my phone?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

He had a point. No one expected Trevon to show up like this. He’d never visited me in Shanghai—ever.

“How did you find me so quickly?”

Trevon flicked on the turn signal, making a smooth left as the navigation app suggested.

“I was in Bangkok when Lincoln called. He wanted me to check on the girls, but the last time I spoke to Wendy, they seemed to be doing fine. So, I figured you might need more help than they do. Besides, no one really knew where the fuck you were.”

“My phone…” I tried to remember the last time I’d used it before Mario smashed it. If I had to guess, it was when I asked Dave to swear to protect June with his life—just before I flew out of America. After that, Clare had handled the rest of my affairs while we were on the jet.

I lowered the electric window, letting the cool fresh air rush in. The lingering scent of cigarettes was starting to get to me. This must have been the housekeeper’s car—but she didn’t seem like the type who smoked.

“I messed up,” I admitted, the words heavy on my tongue.

“I know,” Trevon said, his tone flat.

I rolled my eyes. Seriously? Shouldn’t my best friend be on my side during a tough time like this?

“But you are doing your best,” he added after a beat. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t curl up on the floor and have a panic attack like…”

But I sort of had when he found me.

Something had changed. Sure, I’d had a mini black-out—wide awake but completely numb—but I was handling things better than I would’ve in the past. Then again, it’s not like witnessing a murder right in front of me was an everyday occurrence.

“I shut down…” I confessed quietly.

“I bet.” Trevon’s voice softened. He’d seen it happen before— back when we were in boarding school. There had been more than a few occasions when I thought someone was coming for me.

“June must think I led her on,” I murmured, guilt twisting in my stomach. “Leaving her behind without a word, again.”

“It’s not your fault. Try to take it easy, bro.”

“What is she going to think of me now…” I muttered, the weight of it pressing down on me.

“She thought you were kidnapped, actually.”

“What?” I dragged a hand down my face, rubbing hard enough to feel the scrape of my shadow of facial hair—just to ground myself, to be sure I was awake and not trapped in some surreal nightmare. “Why?”

“Well, all three of you went missing, didn’t you? Lincoln said she was panicking when he saw her.”

“Fuck. I hope Link won’t kill me for this.”

“Nah, come on. He knows you. He wouldn’t have asked me to come for you if he was mad.”

“How did you even know where to find me?”

“Wendy gave me Clare’s number.”

I nodded slowly as the pieces started to click together. Everything made more sense now that Trevon was laying it out. My nerves, still raw, began to settle—if only a little.

“What exactly are their plans in Hong Kong?”

Trevon chuckled under his breath, like something about the whole situation genuinely amused him.

“Well, you remember Wendy?”

“Yes, I remember Wendy,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“She knows all kind of people around the world.”

“You mean shady people?” I raised a brow at him.

He glanced at me, his chuckle deepening. “Yeah, exactly.”

“So, what’s her plan?”

“Fake ID,” Trevon said, flashing a grin.

“You like her…” I teased, watching him carefully.

He didn’t answer—but he didn’t deny it either.

“Shouldn’t we book a flight or something?” I asked, shifting the conversation back to the urgent matter at hand.

“Clare’s on it.”

That was Trevon—he always had a plan. But sometimes, his plans failed when it came to being a person.

He lived his life according to a strict blueprint, and it worked.

He’d achieved everything he ever wanted—success in business, a thriving career, and wealth most people only dreamed of.

But fun? That was never part of his plan.

It took too much time. He used to scoff at us whenever we asked him to relax, to join us for a night out.

When we arrived at the airport, Clare was already waiting for us. I scanned the area quickly. There was no one else in sight.

“Good to see you again, Sir,” she greeted me with an unfamiliar politeness. I couldn’t remember the last time she was this formal—maybe during her interview or the first few weeks on the job. It had been a while.

Trevon tossed her the car keys without a word, a clear signal to get rid of the vehicle. Clare caught them effortlessly and handed them off to a middle-aged woman who appeared silently from behind her. I had been wrong—she did bring backup.

I strode into the airport, pausing in front of a towering row of flight information screens.

“It’s gate 59, Sir,” Clare said smoothly, already anticipating my question.

Trevon’s tall frame was easy to spot at a ticket desk. In a sea of faces, he stood out—not just because he was the only Black man around, but because he had a presence no one could ignore. When he turned and caught my eye, he waved, holding what I hoped were our tickets.

“My guy could only get us business class seats,” Trevon said as he handed me mine. “First class was completely sold out”

“Thanks. It sounds like you had some help getting these?”

“It’s a full flight, but my friend made it work. She offered her clients a ridiculous amount of air miles and bumped them to first class if they agreed to fly later.”

“Win-win,” I muttered.

Without wasting another second, we headed toward security. I didn’t need to turn around to know that familiar, unwanted presence was still trailing us.

I stopped abruptly and snapped. “Where do you think you’re going.”

“I need to protect you, Sir.”

Her voice was steady, but it was the reflection of the harsh airport lighting that gave her away. Without it, I might have missed the shimmer of her watery blue eyes—bright and unyielding as they locked onto mine.

“Haven’t you done enough?” I shook my head, frustration curling in my gut.

This mess—part of it—was my fault. I’d let her get too comfortable, too relaxed with her job.

If I had drawn the line earlier—stopped her from joking around, from bossing Dave and others who were far more experienced—maybe things wouldn’t have spiraled out of control.

I knew the moment I hired her that she was young and arrogant.

I just thought time would change that. If only I had given her a real chance to learn.

“Let me make it up to you,” she pleaded.

“I have Mario.” Though, in truth, I wouldn’t trust him with my life. He wasn’t trained security, just a thug willing to do anything for the right price.

“Please, Sir, Mr. Li.” Her voice trembled as she swallowed hard. “I made a mistake… and I don’t know how you could ever forgive me.”

Before I could respond, she dropped to her knees. I froze in disbelief as she lowered herself further, about to perform a kowtow—an ancient gesture of apology.

“Get up. Get up!” I hissed through clenched teeth.

But of course, the stubborn woman refused to move.

“I’ll kneel here until you forgive me,” she said, her tone unwavering.

I sighed, knowing she wouldn’t stay there forever. Airport security would have her up and out in five minutes if she kept this up.

“You’re fucking embarrassing me,” I muttered under my breath, my voice low enough for only her to hear.

People were already staring. I could feel their judgmental eyes burning into me—painting me as some heartless asshole who bullied women. And God, I hated that feeling. I was a lot of things, but I had never bullied a woman in my life.

“Get up,” I sighed, exasperation dripping from my words. “How are you going to get a ticket if you’re still on the floor?”