Marielle stepped in front of him. “If they threatened her, they may know where home is.”
Damian froze.
That was the first time Marielle saw his fear truly break through. Not for himself. Never for himself. But for Sophia.
He swallowed. “We moved three times this year.”
“And they still found you.”
Sophia slid off the chair and pressed close to her father’s leg. “Daddy?”
Damian’s expression changed at once. He lowered himself to her height and smoothed her hair back. “It’s okay, little bird. We’re just going to take a different ride tonight.”
“Can Miss Bird come too?” Sophia asked, pointing at Marielle.
For one strange second, the room softened.
Damian closed his eyes. “Sophia.”
Marielle knelt slowly, careful not to crowd her. “I can help, if your dad lets me.”
Sophia studied her face. “Do you have snacks in your car?”
Marielle almost smiled. “I can arrange snacks.”
The child nodded seriously. “Then you can help.”
Damian looked at his daughter, then at the door, then back at Marielle. Every instinct in him was screaming to disappear, but this time disappearing meant leading danger straight back to their apartment.
He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. But we leave now. And I don’t want your people touching her.”
“Understood,” Marielle said.
They moved through the service exit, not the front. Daniel sent two security men ahead, one behind, and a decoy through the main entrance wearing Damian’s delivery jacket. In the alley, a black armored Escalade waited with the engine running.
The moment Damian buckled Sophia into the back seat, the SUV across the street started moving.
Daniel spoke into his sleeve. “Tail confirmed.”
Marielle slid into the seat beside Sophia. Damian sat on the other side, shielding his daughter with his body.
Sophia looked between them. “Are we playing spy?”
Damian forced a smile. “Kind of.”
“Am I good at it?”
“The best.”
The Escalade pulled into traffic. Behind them, headlights followed.
Marielle watched through the tinted glass as New York blurred past: wet streets, yellow taxis, steam rising from grates, people hurrying under umbrellas with no idea that a secret from fifteen years ago had just awakened in the back seat of a billionaire’s car.
“Where are we going?” Damian asked.
“My private residence.”
“No.”
