Page 90 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

Matt glanced at Andy, who was now attempting to peer out the window and check his phone simultaneously, while Bruno stoically pretended not to notice his charge’s fidgeting. “That’s our girl. We’ll be airborne in ten minutes, landing in under an hour.”

“Make it faster.”

“James, even with a private jet, I can’t break the sound barrier?—”

“ Try , Matt.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll talk to Davidson. Try not to terrorize all of LA before we get there.”

“Just get here,” James bit out.

Eddie approached as Matt ended the call. “Sir, I’ve arranged for additional security to meet us at LAX. Mr. Maxwell’s teams are already in position.”

“Good.” Matt returned to his seat beside Andy, noting how Bruno had shifted slightly closer to them during the takeoff sequence. Tyrone remained by the door, his attention never wavering.

“What did James say?” Andy asked immediately, his fingers twisting in his lap.

“That your sister is leaving us a trail,” Matt caught one of Andy’s hands, stilling its nervous movement. “And that he’s terrorizing half of California trying to find her.”

“Only half?” Andy’s attempt at humor was shaky but present.

“He’s saving the other half for when we land.”

The jet rumbled to life, its engines drowning out Andy’s restless fidgeting.

“You know,” Matt observed, “the seat will still be there even if you don’t try to merge with it.”

“I hate flying,” Andy muttered through clenched teeth.

“Since when?”

“Since my sister got kidnapped and every second we spend in the air is another second we’re not finding her.”

Matt covered Andy’s hand with his own, gently prying his fingers from their death grip on the leather. He stroked his thumb over Andy’s pulse point, feeling it race. From the corner of his eye, he caught Eddie discreetly checking his phone—likely receiving updates from James’ security team.

“I just…” Andy leaned into Matt’s shoulder, tension thrumming through him. “I can’t lose her, Matt. After everything with our parents…”

“Hey.” Matt tilted Andy’s chin up, meeting those worried eyes. “You’re not losing anyone. You’re gaining a small army of very motivated people who are excellent at making problems disappear.”

“Is that what we’re calling James’ current rampage through LA? Problem-solving?”

“More like aggressive negotiation.” Matt pressed a kiss to Andy’s forehead, ignoring Bruno’s carefully blank expression. “Now, try to rest.”

The landing gear touched down less than an hour after takeoff—a fact Matt would absolutely lord over James later. Andy jerked awake at the impact, momentarily disoriented.

“Did I—” He blinked, then shot upright. “Why did you let me sleep?”

“Because watching you try to fight exhaustion was like seeing a kitten battle a yarn ball.” Matt smoothed down Andy’s hair, which had achieved new levels of chaos during his brief nap. “Adorable, but ultimately futile.”

Andy batted his hands away, already fumbling with his seat belt. “We need to?—”

“—look less like you just lost a fight with a pillow,” Matt finished, efficiently fixing Andy’s rumpled clothes. The boy looked like he’d been through a tornado, which, considering the circumstances, wasn’t far off.

“Matt,” Andy’s voice held a warning note.

“Ten seconds to make you presentable won’t kill anyone.” Matt straightened Andy’s collar. “Though that hair might be a lost cause.”

A sleek black SUV waited on the tarmac, one of James’ security team standing at attention beside it. Even from the jet’s window, Matt could see the man’s barely concealed anxiety. James had clearly been making friends in their absence.

“Thompson,” Matt greeted as they descended the stairs, keeping a steadying hand on Andy’s lower back. “I see you drew the short straw.”

“Mr. Maxwell was… insistent about sending someone to meet you,” Thompson replied diplomatically.

“You mean he threatened to fire everyone if they didn’t have us there five minutes ago?” Matt guided Andy into the back seat before the boy could sprint the entire way to James’ estate on foot.

Thompson’s slight wince was answer enough.

The drive through LA’s predawn streets was tense, Andy practically vibrating out of his skin while Matt fielded increasingly aggressive texts from James. Each message notification made Andy flinch like a gunshot.

“If you don’t stop checking your phone every three seconds, I’m going to throw it out the window,” Matt warned after Andy’s tenth attempt to read over his shoulder.

“But what if?—”

“If there’s news, you’ll know. James isn’t exactly known for his subtle communication style.”

As if on cue, Matt’s phone lit up with another message: WHERE.

Matt showed it to Andy. “See? The height of eloquence.”

Andy’s laugh was watery but real. “He really is terrible at waiting, isn’t he?”

“Patience isn’t a Maxwell family trait.” Matt squeezed Andy’s hand. “Ready?”

Andy squared his shoulders, chin lifting in that familiar stubborn tilt that never failed to make Matt’s heart skip. “Let’s go find my sister.”

D awn was breaking over Los Angeles as Matt’s convoy of black SUVs wound its way through Beverly Hills.

James’ estate loomed ahead, lit up like a military compound on high alert.

Security teams prowled the manicured lawns with the kind of focused intensity that suggested their boss had gone full Mission Impossible .

“I see James is embracing subtlety,” Matt drawled as they passed yet another tactical vehicle. “Nothing says calm and collected quite like turning your mansion into Fort Knox.”

“Are those armed guards on the roof?” Andy pressed his face against the window, staring at the black-clad figures patrolling the perimeter.

“Knowing James, those are just the visible ones.” Matt guided Andy out of the SUV, noting how the security teams snapped to attention as they passed. Bruno and Tyrone fell into step behind them, their presence adding to the surreal militaristic atmosphere.

Scott Maxwell, James’ younger half brother and the middle of the Maxwell siblings, was already waiting on the steps. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “About time you got here,” he greeted them with a tired smile. “Traffic must’ve been hell at thirty thousand feet.”

Matt clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Blame physics. James in full general mode yet?”

“More like full dictator.” Scott’s attempt at humor fell flat as his gaze shifted to Andy. “How’re you holding up?”

Andy’s fingers were practically murdering each other. “I’m—” He swallowed hard. “Just tell me what happened to my sister.”

“James will explain everything,” Scott assured him, leading them inside. “Though fair warning, his office currently looks like the Pentagon had a love child with Google.”

James’ office had indeed transformed into something out of a military thriller.

Screens covered every available surface, displaying maps, security footage, and what looked like every CCTV feed in Los Angeles.

James himself stood behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear, radiating the kind of controlled fury that made Matt glad they were on the same side.

“Track every motel from here to San Diego,” James was saying. “I don’t care if you have to wake up every manager in California.” His eyes met Matt’s, a silent conversation passing between them before he ended the call.

“Matt.” The friends embraced briefly, the tension in James’ shoulders telling Matt everything he needed to know about the situation’s severity.

“Where’s my sister?” Andy’s voice cracked slightly, fear bleeding through his attempted composure.

James’ expression darkened to apocalyptic levels. “Your uncle Herbert took her.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Matt felt Andy sway beside him and instantly steadied him with a hand at his lower back.

“I’m sorry,” Andy’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Did you just say Uncle Herbert ? Not some—some cartel or—” His knees buckled.

“Whoa, easy.” Matt guided him to the nearest chair while Scott disappeared, returning moments later with coffee. Bruno shifted closer, his stoic presence oddly reassuring.

Eric, the youngest of the Maxwell half brothers, chose that moment to enter, taking in Andy’s ghost-white complexion with concern. “Is he?—?”

“Just processing,” Matt answered, his hand never leaving Andy’s shoulder.

“He’s been hunting you both,” James continued, his tone promising violence. “For years, apparently.”

Andy’s hands started shaking so badly he nearly dropped the coffee. “Hunting us? All this time? That sick—” His breathing became erratic. “If he touches her— If he?—”

“Hey.” Matt knelt in front of him, forcing Andy to meet his eyes. “Focus on me, pup. Breathe.”

“You don’t understand,” Andy choked out. “He’s a monster. He’s—” His words dissolved into panicked gasps.

“We’ll find her,” James’ voice cut through Andy’s rising panic.

Eric said, “William’s on his way, and we’ve got teams tracking Sophie.”

The door creaked open again, interrupting Eric’s report. A small dark-haired whirlwind in rumpled pajamas poked her head in, looking like she’d waged war with her hairbrush and lost spectacularly.

“Daddy?” Aria stopped short at the sight of their gathering, her eyes widening as they landed on Andy. The resemblance between him and Mia must have struck her because she stared with unabashed curiosity.

James’ transformation was immediate, his expression softening as he scooped up his daughter. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, princess?”

“The maid’s asleep,” Aria announced, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck. Her eyes never left Andy. “Is that Mia’s brother? He looks just like her! Where’s Mia? I looked everywhere and she’s not here and—” The questions tumbled out in typical kid fashion.

Matt watched Andy struggle to compose himself, noting how his pup managed a weak smile for the little girl despite his obvious distress.

“Can we keep him too, Daddy?” Aria asked with the innocent directness only children possess. “He looks like he needs someone to look after him, like Mia did.”

“Actually,” Matt cut in, winking at her, “he’s already taken.”

Aria’s face lit up with interest. “Oh! Like Sammy and Alfie are my dogs? Or like Mia with Daddy?”

The room temperature dropped several degrees. Eric suddenly found the ceiling fascinating, while Scott failed to suppress a snort.

“What do you mean, about Daddy and Mia?” Scott asked with poorly concealed amusement.

“You know,” Aria said with all the wisdom of a tiny CEO-in-training, “they kiss and do lovey-dovey stuff. And Mia sleeps in our wing sometimes, so we’re like a family!” She turned to Matt, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you sleep with Andy too?”

Matt grinned wickedly. “Every night. We have lots of fun.”

“What the hell are you doing, Matt?” Andy spluttered, face flaming. “She’s a child !”

“Language,” James warned sharply. “Not in front of my daughter.”

Andy went crimson. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say hell.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” Aria waved her hand dismissively, a perfect miniature of her father’s executive gesture. “The maids say that all the time. And worse things. Like this one time?—”

“Do they now?” James’ expression promised a very uncomfortable conversation with his staff in the near future.

“So,” Aria turned back to Matt, undeterred, “Andy is special to you like Daddy says I’m special to him?”

Matt caught Andy’s mortified glance and softened his grin. “Even more special, princess. He’s my very own shooting star.”

“ Ugh ,” Eric groaned while Scott dissolved into barely contained laughter. “Really, Matt?”

The door burst open again. Matt wasn’t surprised to see William and Savannah had made it from Vegas almost as quickly as they had. Savannah looked like she hadn’t slept during their flight, her usually perfect makeup showing traces of tears.

“Tell me you found her,” Savannah pleaded, gripping William’s arm like a lifeline.

Matt felt Andy tense beside him, the brief moment of levity from Aria’s visit evaporating instantly. The room’s atmosphere plunged back into crisis mode, every face grim with renewed urgency.

“We haven’t found her yet,” James replied, his tone carefully measured as he set Aria down.

“I see,” Savannah whispered, fresh tears threatening.

William pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find her soon.”

James seemed to come to a decision. “Aria,” he said, his voice gentle. “Savannah is Mia’s friend. Why don’t you show her around the house until Mia comes back?”

Aria, bless her tactical little heart, immediately understood her mission. She bounced over to Savannah, taking her hand with all the authority of a five-star general who happened to be wearing unicorn pajamas.

“I’m Aria!” she announced. “Come on, I’ll show you my dogs, Sammy and Alfie.

They’re the most adorable ever. And since you’re Mia’s friend, that means you’re family too!

” She tugged at Savannah’s hand. “Do you like dogs? Mia loves them. She always gives them treats when Daddy’s not looking—” Her voice faded as she led a slightly shell-shocked Savannah away.

The moment the door clicked shut, William’s voice was pure ice. “Right, what do we know about Herbert’s movements?”

Matt tightened his grip on Andy’s shoulder as they returned to the grim business at hand. The real hunt was about to begin.