"A complete stranger pleaded with me to fake sleeping on his shoulder mid-flight to dodge creepers. But after we touched down, I learned he was actually a hugely powerful billionaire—and my cheating ex-husband was already on my trail."

Streams of weary travelers surged forward toward baggage claim and connecting gates, their chatter creating a dull, monotonous roar. But Elena felt entirely isolated, as if a spotlight of absolute terror had been shined directly onto her back. Every businessman in a grey suit looked like one of Ethan’s corporate enforcers; every security guard looked like a potential trap.

“Stay close to me,” Adrian instructed quietly, walking half a step ahead. He moved with a natural, commanding grace that forced the bustling crowd to part around him almost instinctively.

As they approached the main concourse junction near Gate B14, two men in tailored dark suits and sunglasses stepped out from a recessed structural pillar. They didn't look like airport security; they looked like federal operatives or private protection details straight out of a political thriller. The taller of the two—a broad-shouldered man with a scar slicing through his left eyebrow—stepped directly into Adrian’s path, his eyes scanning Elena and the sleeping child with hawk-like intensity.

“Mr. Prescott,” the guard said, nodding sharply. “We have three black SUVs staged at the private executive loading bay. The terminal perimeter is secure, but our digital sweeps picked up an unauthorized inbound ping querying your personal transponder code thirty seconds ago.”

Adrian didn't break stride, though his hand shifted slightly to form a protective barrier behind Elena’s back. “Cut the transponder feed, Marcus. Switch all communications to encrypted local relays. Who initiated the ping?”

“Unknown origin, sir,” Marcus replied, falling seamlessly into step beside them. “Routed through a shell server registered out of the Cayman Islands, but the initial API query string was tagged with a domestic corporate signature from a mid-level real estate conglomerate based in Monterrey and expansion-linked to Houston.”

Elena stumbled slightly, her heel catching on the polished linoleum floor.

Real estate conglomerate.

That was Ethan’s primary industry. He operated luxury property acquisition firms along the Texas-Mexico corridor—firms that dealt in millions of dollars of untraceable capital and shady shell corporations. He hadn't just sent a private investigator; he had deployed corporate intelligence assets.

Adrian caught her arm before she lost her balance, his grip firm, warm, and utterly grounding. “You okay?” he asked, his dark eyes softening as he looked down at her.

“I’m fine,” Elena forced out, though her teeth were practically chattering. “It’s him. Ethan owns a property development firm. He uses those exact kinds of corporate proxy servers whenever he wants to dig up dirt on competitors or hide assets during audits. He’s looking for me, Adrian. If his men find me, he’ll take Lily. He knows that’s the only way to completely destroy me.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened until the skin stretched white over his bone structure. The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees.

“Nobody is taking your daughter, Elena,” Adrian said, his voice flat, cold, and absolute. “Nobody touches either of you. Marcus, get the cars moving. We’re heading straight to the downtown estate. No stops.”

“Sir, the downtown residence is currently under media surveillance due to the Q3 tech merger announcement,” Marcus warned, his eyes darting toward Elena with cautious appraisal. “Bringing an unauthorized civilian—and a child—into the primary compound will create a massive security vulnerability.”

“Then we use the backup penthouse on Westheimer,” Adrian snapped back without missing a beat. “And Marcus? Run a full spectrum trace on that domestic corporate signature. I want the name of every single person who touched that search query by the time we hit the West Loop. If Ethan Walker wants to play corporate espionage games on American soil, let’s see how he handles a federal countersuit for harassment and stalking.”

Marcus offered a tight, grim nod. “Consider it done, boss.”

They moved swiftly through the terminal, bypassing the crowded public elevators and descending down a restricted service ramp that led directly to the lower subterranean levels. A fleet of three matte-black, armor-plated Lincoln Navigators idled against the concrete pillars, their engines humming with a low, predatory purr.

As Adrian opened the rear door of the lead vehicle and shielded Elena’s head as she slid into the leather-lined interior with Lily, a sudden flash of light caught the corner of his eye.

High up on the concrete mezzanine overlooking the lower service bay, a camera shutter clicked.

Adrian whipped his head upward, his eyes locking onto the figure standing in the shadows behind the reinforced glass railing. It was a man in a rumpled linen suit, holding a telephoto lens lowered hastily against his thigh.