She looked me up and down. “I needed you.”
“The board dinner,” I breathed, the realization dawning. “They’re expecting me there in twenty minutes.”
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“Exactly,” Maren said, slamming the laptop shut and shoving it into a duffel bag. She turned to the back room where the boys were sleeping and called out. “Evelyn!”
Evelyn Cross, my own ruthless corporate attorney, stepped out of the shadows, holding a sleeping Finn.
“Hello, Rowan,” Evelyn said dryly. “Turns out, I prefer representing a mother fighting for her cubs over a CEO blinded by a sociopath.”
“Evelyn is taking the boys to a safe house guarded by private military contractors,” Maren stated, strapping on a jacket. “You and I are going to the Hermitage Hotel.”
“Maren, if we go to that dinner, we alert them. We should go straight to the airstrip.”
“No,” Maren stepped into my space, her finger pressing hard into my chest. “If we just take Clara, Grant’s lawyers will tie us up in international kidnapping courts for a decade. Tessa will twist the narrative. The only way to win is to slit the throat of the Whitmore empire in front of everyone. We burn their reputation to ash so they have nowhere left to hide.”
