Chapter18
1136 Words
CHAPTER 18
Belle hadn’t slept.
Adam was gone.
He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t left a note. One minute he was downstairs in a heated argument about his secret son, and the next – vanished like smoke.
Coward.
Belle sat up and reached for her phone again. No new messages, no missed calls, no explanation. The longer the silence stretched, the louder her mind screamed.
Emma entered the room quietly, holding two mugs of tea.
“You look like a woman plotting murder,” she said, handing Belle a mug.
Belle took it but didn’t sip. “That’s because I am.”
Emma raised a brow. “We talking poison? Or the sexy, stab-him-in-the-chest kind?”
“I’m thinking slow unraveling of his empire and peace of mind,” Belle muttered.
Emma gave a low whistle. “That bad?”
“He left. Without a word – after I confronted about his son.”
Emma sank onto the bed beside her. “Men don’t like explaining their children. Especially when the child is part of the mafia starter pack.”
Belle looked over at her sharply.
“I’m kidding,” Emma added quickly. “But seriously, Belle – maybe he left to protect the kid. Not to run away from you.”
Belle looked down at her untouched tea.
“Maybe,” she said. “Wait… did I just hear you say mafia?”
Emma didn't reply. She just continued sipping her tea.
Belle continued “You are aware of Adam's criminal activities?”
“Come on girl, what do you take me for? Because I've never mentioned it doesn't mean I didn't know.” Emma answered.
“Wow! And here I was, thinking I was doing a good job keeping it a secret.”
They both chuckled.
“But what do we do now? I have a bad feeling about this whole having a secret son thing. And your husband might be somewhere planning something dangerous.” Emma said.
“Adam is always planning something dangerous. That is basically what he does for a living.” Belle replied, then gulped down the whole cup of tea like she was planning on getting drunk from a cup of tea.
Emma stared at her in confusion.
Belle continued “But I can't keep reacting to his dangerous moves, I have to make a move too.”
__
Adam stood at the balcony of the vineyard house in Spain, overlooking rows of moonlit vines. It was quiet now, too quiet.
The MI6 agent who guarded the property, Thomas, approached silently from behind.
“You were right to come,” he said. “Someone triggered a proximity breach on the north fence at 2 a.m.”
Adam didn’t flinch. “How close?”
“Too close.”
Thomas handed him a security tablet. The footage was grainy but clear: a shadowed figure in a black hoodie hovering near the gates, trying to loop something onto the wires — a signal jammer maybe, or worse.
They didn’t try to enter. Just... scoped the place and vanished into the darkness.
Adam’s jaw tightened.
This wasn’t random.
“We need to relocate Liam,” Adam said. “Immediately.”
Thomas nodded once and disappeared into the house. Adam remained still. His hands gripped the iron railing as a knot of fear twisted in his chest.
He hadn’t felt fear like this in years.
Not since he watched his father die.
Liam was asleep when Adam entered the his room. One arm tucked under his cheek, the other clutching a worn-out plush tiger.
For a brief second, Adam’s chest squeezed.
He didn’t deserve this child.
He knelt beside the bed, brushing back a lock of Liam’s dark hair. So innocent. So unaware of the danger tightening around them.
Thomas returned with a tablet and a dossier. “I’ve activated the relocation protocol. Private jet is prepped. Destination redacted even to me, per your settings.”
Adam nodded. “And the caretaker?”
“Ready. She’s ex-intelligence, speaks five languages; she’ll pass for a private tutor.”
Adam’s fingers curled into a fist. “No mistakes, Thomas.”
An hour later, Adam stood on the tarmac. The jet engines hummed softly. The wind whipped through his coat as the door opened.
Liam stood side by side with him, holding Adam's hand very tightly like he would fly away if he didn't.
Adam chuckled.
As the plane jetted off into the velvet night sky, taking him and his son to a whole new world in Switzerland, he sincerely hoped and prayed that he'll never have to move Liam again.
He’d buried bodies, betrayed nations.
But this?
This felt like bleeding from the inside out.
Inside the plane, Thomas handed him a folder. “Zurich. Private chalet, triple security perimeter. It’s isolated, but there’s a nearby school under alias registration.”
Adam nodded. “I’ll stay with him. At least for the first few days. I want to get familiar with the place myself before I return to New York.”
“Alright sir, I'll let his caretaker know.”
Hours later, the jet touched down in Zurich under a blanket of fog. Snow drifted like feathers across the tarmac as black SUVs pulled up quietly.
Inside the SUV, snow misted the windows as the convoy snaked through the Swiss countryside.
Adam stayed close to Liam as they drove through winding alpine roads, toward the isolated chalet tucked into the white-covered hills.
Liam sat buckled beside Adam, feet swinging, arms crossed.
“I thought you said we were going on a vacation, this doesn't seem like one.” Liam spoke.
Adam glanced at him. “How'd you know that?”
“Duh. I'm six, not stupid. But why are we moving?”
“This place is safer.”
Liam tilted his head. “I’m gonna miss my friends though. Never even got to say goodbye.”
Adam placed a hand on his shoulder. “You'll make new ones buddy, you always do.”
A silence fell between them, thick and fragile.
Liam inhaled slowly. “Okay. But this house better have waffles too.”
Adam let out a soft laugh. “I’ll make sure it does.”
Liam grinned. “Good. Or I’m calling the police on you.”
Adam laughed. “I am the police.”
Liam gave him a one eye look. “Liar.”
They both fell into quiet chuckles as the car rolled on, the chalet now in view through the drifting snow.
The house was cold, sleek, and hidden.
As Liam settled into his new room – books already lined up, warm sheets tucked in – Adam stood by the window, watching the trees shift with the wind.
He would stay for three days.
Then he’d go back to New York.
- Writer
