Chapter 8 - The O'Hare Trap
The penthouse erupted into immediate, calculated action. Reed straightened up instantly, the gentle warmth of his proximity vanishing, replaced by the chilling focus of a general preparing for war.
“Tommy, secure the perimeter at the restaurant and have our people monitor every flight arrival from Phoenix,” Reed commanded, his voice sharp and commanding. “Maya, you stay right here.”
“No,” I said, standing up from the desk with a sudden surge of fierce, protective anger. “No way. That bastard ruined my life, took my savings, and now he’s flown into my city? I’m coming with you.”
Reed turned back, glaring at me with dark disapproval. “This isn't a game, Maya. Marcus is desperate, and desperate men do stupid things.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of stupid men?” I fired back, stepping right up to his chest, refusing to back down. “I’ve spent the last eight months changing diapers in supply closets, eating ramen for breakfast, and crying myself to sleep while he lived like a king. If you think I’m staying behind while you confront him, you don't know me at all.”
For a long, tense moment, Reed stared down at me. Then, unexpectedly, a low chuckle escaped his lips—a sound of genuine respect.
“Alright,” Reed said, grabbing his heavy wool coat from the rack. “Put your coat on. But you stay behind me the entire time.”
Within forty minutes, we were parked in a private service bay near O’Hare International Airport, shielded from the blinding snowstorm by a row of black SUVs. Reed’s men had tracked Marcus’s flight easily through the encrypted data we unlocked.
As the sliding doors of the private terminal opened, a familiar figure stepped out into the biting wind, wearing an expensive designer coat and looking entirely too arrogant for someone running for his life.
It was Marcus.
Seeing him in person after all this time felt like reopening an old wound. My hands clenched into tight fists inside my coat pockets.
May you like
Marcus stepped toward a waiting town car, but before he could open the door, two of Reed’s massive bodyguards stepped out from the shadows, blocking his path. Marcus froze, turning around in sheer panic—only to find Reed and me walking out from the black SUV.
Color drained entirely from Marcus’s face. “Maya?” he choked out, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What is this? What’s going on?”
