“Let’s take my SUV, I said, fishing my keys from my bag, keeping my voice deliberately even. “It has Noah’s car seat already installed, and
more space for groceries.”
“As you wish,” he conceded, sliding the Maserati’s key fob back into his pocket with a nonchalance.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot near the Chelsea Farmers Market.
The place was already bustling with shoppers, a colorful tapestry of people weaving between stalls laden with fresh produce and artisanal
goods.
Noah’s eyes widened as he took in the kaleidoscope of colors and the symphony of voices calling out prices and offerings.
“It’s crowded,” I observed, eyeing the throngs of people as I unbuckled Noah from his car seat. “I should carry you so you don’t get lost,
okay?”
Noah nodded, reaching up to me with trusting arms.
Before I could lift him, Caspar stepped in, scooping Noah up in one smooth motion.
“Allow me,” he said, settling Noah against his chest. “He’s getting a bit heavy for you.”
Noah settled comfortably against Caspar’s chest, his eyes still roaming the market excitedly.
As we walked between the stalls, I couldn’t help but notice the turning heads and lingering glances from nearly everyone we passed.
Despite Caspar’s attempt at casual dress, his straight posture, confident bearing, and indefinable air of authority made him magnetic even
in this most ordinary of settings.
We approached the strawberry stall, and the vendor, a cheerful woman, beamed at us.
“What a beautiful family you have, sir,” she said to Caspar. “Your son has your eyes, but I think he has his mother’s smile.”
I opened my mouth to correct her, but Caspar spoke first.
“Thank you,” he replied simply, neither confirming nor denying her assumption.
I closed my mouth, realizing that correcting her now would seem like protesting too much. It would only make the situation more awkward and draw unnecessary attention.
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18:33 Wed, Jan 28 M…
Chapter 75
Besides, she was just a stranger we’d never see again.
A
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So I simply smiled politely and focused on selecting the ripest strawberries from the display, though I couldn’t help the warmth that crept
into my cheeks.
By the time we’d filled two canvas bags with fresh produce, Noah was getting tired but still insisted on walking himself, his small hand
firmly clasped in mine while Caspar carried our purchases.
“Oh!” I suddenly remembered.
“I need to make a quick stop at my apartment,” I said, remembering the call I’d received earlier. “There’s a package waiting that requires
my signature.”
“We can stop by on the way back,” Caspar offered, shifting the bags to his other hand. “Where is your apartment?”
“Upper East Side,” I replied. “But you don’t need to go out of your way-”
“It’s no problem,” he cut me off smoothly. “We’ll drop you off, and Noah and I will wait in the car.”
The car pulled up in front of my building.
I hadn’t been back in almost a week, having spent most of my time either at the gallery or at the Thornton estate with Noah.
‘I’ll just be a few minutes,” I promised, slipping out of the car.
Inside, I quickly collected my packages from the front desk. I had no intention of going up to my apartment; this was just a quick errand.
As I stepped outside, three men in dark clothing suddenly materialized, blocking my path to the car where Caspar and Noah waited.
‘Ms. Lane, one of them said, his voice low and menacing. “We need you to come with us.”
“What is this about?” I demanded.
‘Mr. Bailey sent us,” the man replied, his tone implying this should explain everything. He wants you to return home immediately.”
I felt a flare of anger. “And if I refuse?”
The three men exchanged glances. The one in the middle stepped forward, his expression hardening
“We wouldn’t want to make this… unpleasant.”
I felt my muscles tense as I assessed my options. Three against one, not ideal odds.
“I believe the lady declined your invitation.”
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Chapter 75
Caspar’s voice, cool and controlled, cut through the tension.
He appeared beside me, then smoothly maneuvered himself between me and the men.
His stance was casual, hands in his pockets, but I could see the dangerous readiness in the set of his shoulders.
“This doesn’t concern you,” the tall man said, though his confidence had visibly faltered at Caspar’s appearance.
“Ms. Lane is with me,” Caspar replied, his tone making it clear this was not up for debate. “And my son is waiting in the car. I dislike
keeping him waiting.”
“Mr. Bailey was very specific-”
“I don’t care what George Bailey wants,” Caspar interrupted, his voice dropping to a pitch that sent a chill down my spine. “Now, you have exactly five seconds to clear a path before I make one myself.”
The tension in the air was palpable. Just as it seemed the situation would escalate to physical confrontation, a familiar voice cut through
the standoff.
“It’s become quite the challenge to see you, Audrey.”
George Bailey emerged from inside the building, his perfectly tailored suit. His face wore that familiar condescending expression I knew
all too well.
I let out a cold laugh. “Wasn’t it you who told me there was no place for me in the Bailey family anymore? That I should never come
back?”
George’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If you were truly so obedient to my wishes, then why didn’t you listen when I told you not to divorce
Samuel?”
His gaze shifted to Caspar, looking him up and down with unconcealed disdain.
‘Now I understand why you were so insistent on that divorce.” he paused deliberately, “Though I must say, your taste has deteriorated.
Trading down for this pretty boy?”
I nearly choked on my own breath.
Pretty boy?
Had George actually just referred to Caspar Thornton–King C, the most feared man on Wall Street–as a pretty boy?
The absurdity of it might have been comical if the situation weren’t so tense.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
