Chapter 151 Wheels Up
Valentina
I’d already triple-checked my bag.
Then I double-checked Tess’s.
Then I tried not to launch my phone across the room for the seventh time that hour.
We were packed. Dressed. Sitting by the door like two bloodhounds scenting the wind, pretending like we weren’t vibrating with anticipation.
“Should we check the bags again?” Tess asked.
I gave her a look that said absolutely not but also maybe yes.
Instead, I paced.
I hadn’t slept. Not really. I’d dozed in intervals—dreams of faceless girls and cages and ships that never docked. Of a little girl with my mother’s eyes crying behind steel bars, and a man with Bexley’s name slamming the door shut.
I checked the time again.
Nothing.
Then my phone lit up. Matteo.
I snatched it up so fast Tess flinched.
“Tell me we’re good,” I said before he could speak.
“We’re good,” he said, and I swear I exhaled for the first time in hours. “Everything’s in place. Bexley’s still docked, the safehouse is prepped, and I’ve got men already staking out his usual haunts.”
“When do we leave?”
“Five minutes ago,” he said, smug bastard. “Little Ricky should be pulling up any second.”
I glanced at the window just as headlights swept across the gravel.
“You’re kidding, right?” I muttered. “I’ve been ready since you left yesterday.”
He chuckled, low and warm. “Then get moving, Mrs. Genovese. I’ll see you on the other side.”
The line clicked off.
I grabbed my bag and turned to Tess. “Let’s go.”
She bolted up like a soldier.
Little Ricky met us at the front gate, baseball cap low over his forehead and the same smirk he always wore when driving one of Matteo’s vehicles. He popped the trunk and gave us both a nod.
“You ladies flying solo today,” he said. “Boss’ll be waiting for you in Nassau.”
“No Rosco?” Tess asked, trying to play it cool while I could practically hear her disappointment.
Ricky shrugged. “He’s with the boss.”
Tess muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like focus, bitch.
We boarded the car, quiet but coiled. And by the time we reached the private hangar, I had one hand white-knuckled around my phone and the other curled around the handle of my carry-on like I was going to war.
Because I was.
The moment the jet door opened, a familiar voice greeted us from inside.
“Well, well. Lovely to see you again, Mrs. Genovese.”
Amy. Matte lipstick. Business chic. Not a hair out of place.
“Please,” I said, managing a tired smile as I stepped up into the cabin. “Valentina is fine.”
Amy nodded, eyes glinting. “Then let’s get you to Nassau, Valentina. Your husband awaits.”
I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.
But once we were in the air—wheels up, champagne offered, Amy humming softly up front—I gave in. My body finally crashed after days of adrenaline, after a night of pacing and pretending I could wait patiently.
I excused myself quietly and slipped into the private bedroom, the hum of the jet soothing me the moment I lay back. The sheets were soft. The lighting was dim. And I was out before I could even rehearse what I might say if we found my sister.
It felt like seconds. But it must’ve been hours.
“Val?” A gentle hand shook my shoulder. “Hey… sorry to wake you, but we’re coming into final descent.”
I blinked, disoriented. “What?”
Tess smiled, crouched beside the bed. “Amy said we should be landing in about thirty minutes. We’re almost there.”
I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. The reality hit all at once.
Nassau.
Bexley.
My sister.
I reached for my bag on instinct, fingers already checking for the folder with all the notes I’d compiled. My heart was a drumbeat in my chest, each thump louder than the last.
Tess stood back as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “You okay?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m ready.”
She gave a quiet nod, then added with a smirk, “You drool in your sleep, by the way.”
I scowled. “You sure you want to ride or die with me?”
She grinned. “Especially now.”
We both laughed—and I clung to it. Because in thirty minutes, we’d hit the ground running.
And I had a ghost to chase.
The wheels hit the tarmac with a soft thud, and my pulse spiked.
I stood at the top of the stairs just long enough to spot him—Matteo, standing tall and commanding beside a sleek black car, the Caribbean sun turning his dark suit nearly silver at the edges. Rosco was a shadow beside him, one hand on the trunk, the other tucked in his jacket.
I didn’t wait.
My heels clicked fast down the steps before I finally jumped the last one, closing the distance between us. Matteo opened his arms right as I launched myself into them. My hands went to his shoulders, then his hair, tugging him into a kiss that didn’t care who was watching.
He chuckled against my mouth. “I was gone one day, principessa.”
I kissed him again.
“Well,” he murmured between kisses, “technically two days, but just one night.”
“It felt like eternity,” I whispered, forehead pressed to his.
His hands slid around my waist, grounding me. “It’s okay, principessa. I missed you too.”
Behind us, I caught the edge of movement—Tess descending slower than I had, one hand blocking the sun from her eyes as she spotted Rosco.
She bounced up to him, arms already open, bright smile plastered across her face. “Hey you,” I heard her chirp.
But Rosco didn’t catch her.
He dodged.
Flat-out stepped back, grabbed her duffel before she could make contact, and tossed it in the trunk like she was a stranger at baggage claim. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.
Tess stood there blinking, trying to play it off. She smoothed her shirt, looked around like she’d just been stretching.
I looked away before our eyes could meet.
Let her have the illusion. But I’d seen it all.
Rosco is in work mode. Focused. I told her not to get attached.