Alessandro had made his choice by not being there when it mattered most, and she was making hers now.
After a moment’s pause, she dialed Lucas’s number. The phone rang for few seconds, Lucas finally picked the call.
“Miss, where are you? Is Vaughn safe? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you since midnight… Alessandro said you were caught in a shooting, then he couldn’t find you… ” Lucas’s voice cracked with so many emotions, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush.
Amara’s heart softened at the sound of his near-panicked tone. Lucas had always been fiercely protective, more like family than an employee. Hearing his concern made the emotions she had been holding at bay threaten to spill over, but she held them back.
“Lucas,” she interrupted gently, trying to soothe his fears, “I’m fine. Vaughn is safe too. We’re both okay.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Amara could almost hear the relief flooding through Lucas. “Thank God,” he breathed, his voice shaky. “I was so worried, Miss. After Alessandro said he couldn’t find you… I feared the worst… Where are you now??”
Amara swallowed, her throat tight.
She knew Alessandro must have been frantic too, but that didn’t change the fact that he had failed to return when she needed him most.
It was a betrayal she couldn’t overlook, especially with Vaughn’s life on the line. The anger she had been holding back simmered beneath the surface, but she kept it in check for Lucas’s sake.
As the anger simmered beneath Amara’s calm exterior, she spoke to Lucas with a steady voice, keeping her emotions in check. ” I am at safe place. How is the situation at the hotel?” she asked, her tone sharp yet controlled.
Lucas glanced around, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting trouble. “It seems fine on the surface, but we can’t eliminate the suspicious activity after last night,” he replied, his voice laced with concern.
Amara nodded, her decision already made. “Get my belongings from there. I’ll meet you directly at the airport tonight,” she instructed, her words carrying the weight of her resolve.
“Yes, Miss,” Lucas responded without hesitation. His loyalty and concern for her were evident, but there was an underlying tension in his voice that made Amara’s heart ache. She ended the call, her thoughts swirling with a mix of anger and an odd sense of relief.
As she lowered the phone, Rowan’s gaze caught hers. There was a question in his eyes, one that he didn’t need to voice but did anyway. “You’re going back tonight?”
Amara simply nodded.
Rowan looked at her, but didn’t say anything.
The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions and words .
Half an hour later, the door creaked open, and Harvey and Kyle entered the house, their arms laden with bags. The aroma of fresh food wafted through the air, momentarily breaking the tension. But the respite was short-lived.
Amara’s gaze flickered to Rowan as the others settled in, unpacking the bags with the food. He was still wounded, the blood on his shirt dried.
Rowan noticed her lingering stare and gave her a faint smirk, the familiar arrogance in his eyes. “Worried about me again, Crimson?”
Amara’s lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to rise to his bait. “Just make sure you don’t bleed out before I leave,” she replied coolly, brushing past him to help with the food.
Rowan’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was a shadow of something darker behind it, a weariness that matched the severity of the situation. He watched as she moved around.
Rowan watched how Amara fed Vaughn, how she interacted with Vaughn. There was a softness in her eyes as she fed Vaughn, who sat perched on a high stool, his short legs swinging back and forth with the innocent joy only a child could possess.
Each bite Amara offered was met with Vaughn’s cheerful grin, a sparkle in his eyes that made Rowan’s chest tighten. He observed the way they interacted, the way Vaughn’s face lit up with every word his mother spoke, and how Amara’s own features softened in response. It was a scene of warmth and familial love that contrasted sharply with the cold, violent world Rowan was accustomed to.
A complicated mix of emotions welled up inside him as he watched them. There was admiration for Amara’s strength, for the way she protected her son, but also a deep, unspoken longing. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder… what if Vaughn had been his son? What would it have been like to be the one sharing these tender moments, to be the one Vaughn looked up to with such trust and affection?
As if sensing the weight of Rowan’s gaze, Vaughn turned his head and caught Rowan watching them. The boy’s eyes, so full of innocence, met Rowan’s, and without hesitation, he hopped off the chair, his small feet pattering across the floor as he made his way over.
Vaughn stood in front of Rowan, his tiny hand extending a half-eaten cookie towards him. “You can have this, Uncle,” Vaughn offered, his voice filled with sincerity. “It’s delicious.”
Rowan looked down at the cookie in Vaughn’s hand, then back at the boy’s expectant eyes. For a moment, he felt a lump form in his throat, a rare and unfamiliar emotion threatening to break through his usually impenetrable exterior. This small act of kindness, this simple gesture, touched him in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Thanks,” Rowan said, his voice gruff but not unkind. He reached out and took the cookie from Vaughn’s hand. The smile that spread across Vaughn’s face in response was like a beacon of light which startled Rowan.
Vaughn, oblivious to the turmoil in Rowan’s heart, simply grinned up at him, his eyes shining with trust. “Mommy says we have to be strong, even when things are scary,” Vaughn said, his voice carrying the wisdom of a child who had seen more than he should have. “Are you strong too, Uncle Rowan?”
The question caught Rowan off guard, and for a brief moment, he was at a loss for words. He glanced at Amara, who was watching the interaction with a mix of emotions in her eyes.