Vaughn looked up at Rowan with wide eyes, his voice breaking the silence. “Are you going somewhere, Uncle Rowan?” he asked, his tone innocent, unaware of the gravity of the situation around him.
Rowan’s hardened expression softened ever so slightly, a faint smile touching his lips. “Just waiting, Vaughn,” he replied gently.
Vaughn nodded, seeming to accept the answer, though his eyes remained on Rowan, watching him closely.
Amara glanced between them, her heart twisting at the sight. There was something undeniably touching about the way Rowan interacted with Vaughn, a tenderness she hadn’t expected from a man like him… a man who had lived his life in the shadows, who had seen and done things most people couldn’t even imagine. If Rowan knew Vaughn was his son, she wondered how gentle would he be with him then.
The minutes ticked by, the silence stretching out, punctuated only by the distant sounds of airport activity. Every now and then, Rowan’s phone would buzz, and he’d check it with a quick, practiced glance before returning his focus to their surroundings.
He was a man always on alert, always prepared for the worst.
Amara watched him, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Why had he come back? Why had he risked his own safety to return here, to be with them? There was a part of her that didn’t want to know the answers, that was afraid of what they might mean.
Rowan’s phone buzzed again, and this time, his expression shifted subtly as he read the message. He turned to Amara, his voice low but firm. “Lucas is nearby,” he said. “He’ll be here soon.”
Amara nodded, her tension easing a fraction. She could see the weight of responsibility bearing down on Rowan’s shoulders, the lines of worry etched into his face. For a moment, she wanted to reach out, to touch his hand, to offer some small comfort. But she held back, unsure of how he would react, unsure of how she even felt about it herself.
Instead, she settled for a quiet, “Thank you,” her voice barely more than a whisper.
Rowan looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging her words without fully accepting them. “Just doing what I have to,” he replied, his tone gruff, almost dismissive. But there was something in his eyes that belied his words.
Moments later, a black SUV pulled up to the curb, and Lucas stepped out, following him was Nick, his face drawn with worry and relief. He hurried over to them, his eyes scanning over Amara and Vaughn, checking them for any sign of injury or distress.
“Miss Amara,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He turned to Rowan, his expressions unreadable.
Rowan stood, his expression once again that of the unyielding leader, the man in control. “Get them on the flight,” he ordered Lucas, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Make sure they’re safe.”
Lucas nodded, unsure of what to say, keeping Amara safe was his duty, and ofcourse he would do it, and there was no need for Rowan to say it.
Amara looked at Rowan, a myriad of emotions swirling in her chest. She wanted to say something, anything, to convey what she felt, but the words caught in her throat. All she could manage was a quiet, “Take care of yourself, Rowan.”
Rowan’s eyes met hers, a flicker of something soft and vulnerable flashing across them for the briefest of moments. Then he nodded, turning away, his back straight, his posture unyielding. “I always do,” he replied, his voice cool and distant.
And with that, he walked away, disappearing into the shadows from which he came, leaving Amara and Vaughn to watch him go, knowing that, in their world, goodbyes were never truly final.
Amara turned to Lucas and Nick, her grip tightening around Vaughn as she picked him up, holding him close against her side. Vaughn instinctively wrapped his small arms around her neck, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Let’s go,” Amara said, her voice firm yet carrying an undertone of urgency. There was no time to waste. They had to get out of there before anything else went wrong. She glanced at Lucas, who was already moving, his eyes darting around the area, ever vigilant.
Lucas nodded at her command, stepping forward with a sense of purpose. “Our private jet is ready,” he informed her, his tone steady but filled with a sense of urgency. “I made the arrangements for flying out early. We can leave as soon as we get through security.”
Amara nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety settling in her chest.
Relief that they had a way out, that they could escape this place that held so much danger. Anxiety because she knew leaving wouldn’t mean the end of their problems-it would just mean the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with uncertainty and unknown threats.
Nick was already on the move, his large frame cutting a path through the sparse crowd, making sure no one was getting too close. He was always the silent one, but his presence was serious, and his actions spoke louder than words ever could. He moved like a shadow, a constant protector, always there but never drawing attention to himself.
As they made their way through the airport, Amara couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, her eyes searching for Rowan. She knew he was somewhere out there, watching, waiting, ensuring their safety until the very last moment.
Lucas led them through a series of side corridors, avoiding the main pathways crowded with early morning travelers. They moved quickly but cautiously, keeping Vaughn shielded between them.
“Are we going home, Mama?” Vaughn’s small voice piped up, breaking the silence, his tone a mix of excitement and confusion.