“Where’s Bella?”

It was the tenth time Lillian had asked since we’d left Paris so abruptly.

“I told you, honey,” I murmured, picking her up as we stepped off the jet and walked towards Andrew waiting with the car. “She had to go home.”

It was dark out, the snow coming down hard outside the hangar, chilly air whipping about.

The night before Christmas Eve, and here we were — coming back home, just the three of us, instead of laughing and being together in Paris.

With Bella.

“Why?”

“Because she…”

I trailed off.

Because your mother is a horrible cunt of a human who threatened to let a woman die just to get Bella away from me.

I shook my head. “She just had to go home for Christmas, honey.”

“But I thought she was going to have Christmas with us?” Beckham pouted as I buckled him into his car seat.

“I know, buddy, I know.”

I slid into the car, slamming the door shut as Andrew pulled us out of the hanger. I checked my phone for the millionth time since Paris, looking at that one text message yet again.

I’m sorry.

My heart fucking shattered as I read it again, before I slipped it into my pocket.

“To the house, sir?”

I glanced up at Andrew through the partition. Home sounded good. Home sounded like what we all needed. But not yet.

I had something I had to do first.

I’d lost something that belonged to me in Paris, something precious to me that’d been stolen.

And now, it was time to get her back.

It was time to make this right.

“Actually, Andrew,” I leaned forward to the partition. “I think it’s time we go for a drive. There’s someone missing from this car and this night that we have to go get.”

Andrew had worked for me for years, and I had no doubt that he knew what’d been going on with Bella and I.

Good.

No more hiding this. No more keeping to the shadows.

I wanted to tell the whole fucking world about the girl I loved.

I passed him my phone, with her parent’s address called up on it — the one I’d had some of my people find while en route back to the States. His eyes darted to mine in the review mirror.

“Sir—”

“I’m usually more than happy to hear your consultations, Andrew, but this time—”

“Sir, the roads are getting really bad.”

My jaw tightened as I glanced through the front windshield at the snow coming down in white sheets outside the hangar.

Fuck.

It did look like shit out there. Downtown Boston was one thing, getting back to our townhouse from the airport would be a breeze. Getting to the suburbs would be a dangerous nightmare. Even more, I had the kids with me.

I swore under my breath.

“Sir? If I may?”

I looked up.

“The roads are bad, sir, but I believe the air might not be as bad. Dangerous, but…” He grinned at me. “What was the point of all those lessons if you never take it up, right?”

The grin spread across my face.

“Do I look crazy to you, Andrew?”

He grinned at me. “Sir, I believe a man in love will do all sorts of things that might seem crazy to everyone else.”

“I believe you’re right,” I growled. “Make the call.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

I turned back to my kids. “Hey guys?” I grinned at them. “Your dad’s gotta go do something, so Andrew’s going to take you home, okay?”

Beckham’s face fell, and I could see Lillian about to cry when I leaned close and smiled. “You see, I think there’s been a mistake, because actually, I think Bella’s going to spend Christmas with us after all.”

Their faces lit up.

“Really?” Beckham gasped.

“Really, buddy. Thing is, I just have to go get her.”

They both grinned eagerly.

“Think you can watch your sister until I get back?”

My son nodded and I grinned as I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Good man. Andrew?” I turned back just as he finished making the call to the airport staff. “Get them home safe.”

“On my life, sir.”

We nodded at each other before I turned back to my kids, kissing them again before stepping out of the car.

“This way, Mr. Kensington.”

I nodded sharply, pulling my coat tighter as I followed the hangar crewman outside, away from the planes.

…To the helicopter, prepped, fueled, and ready on the landing pad.

Andrew was right — I’d spent far too much time in training for this thing for it not to count when I needed it to. And right then?

Right then, I needed it to count, because I had to get to the girl I loved.

Immediately.