“Maynard, turn this car around.”

“I can’t do that, Miss Leone.”

“We’re not leaving Robert to fend for himself,” I said.

“We’re heading back to the penthouse like instructed,” he said.

“Turn this damn car around now!”

I was looking back through the windshield and watching Robert’s form fall into the horizon. He had seen Slate. I knew he had. I could see it in his eyes when he looked down at me. Worry was gathering in the pit of my stomach as Maynard drove away, weaving to the tall black tower Robert and I had been in for almost a month.

“Maynard, please,” I said.

But this time, he stayed silent.

We pulled into the parking garage and I was hustled up to the penthouse. I strode over to the windows and pressed myself against them. I was looking out towards the horizon. Towards that imaginary line that had devoured Robert’s body. Tears filled my eyes as Maynard approached me from behind, his strong form towering over me.

Like Robert’s did.

“When will he get back?” I asked.

“He’ll be back soon.”

“Why is he doing this alone?” I asked.

“He’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Stop giving me a generic answer and tell me what the hell’s going on,“ I said.

“Take a look around you first.”

I furrowed my brow as I looked around the apartment. And I found that Maynard and I were the only two there. There were no security guards at the front door or outside of my bedroom. No one was in the kitchen or pacing around the living room floor. The only two people in the apartment were me and the head of security.

Which meant the rest of the guys must’ve been with Robert.

That thought should’ve provided some relief, but it didn’t. I didn’t know if Robert was going to come back. I didn’t know what Slate was going to do. My hands were trembling and my mind was spinning, and I needed to find things to get my mind off of what was happening.

So I started to clean.

And organize.

And make up beds.

I wiped down the kitchen counters and washed all the dirty dishes by hand. I swept the floors and cleaned up my bathroom and even cleaned down his. I cooked Maynard and I some lunch and put the leftovers in the refrigerator, then I started planning dinner as if Robert was coming back.

I had to keep hope that he was coming back.

My cell phone rang in the other room and I ran for it. I fumbled with it in my hands as I looked at the name scrolling across the screen. I never thought I would feel disappointed to hear from Lacey, but I was.

I was really hoping Robert had been the one calling me.

“Hello?”

“Hey there! How goes life with the billionaire?”

“It’s uh… going,” I said.

Maynard was standing at my doorway, his back to me and his arms crossed behind his back.

“Where are you guys now? Hawaii? The Cayman Islands checking on his bank accounts? Oh, let me guess. He’s already taken you to Italy.”

“We’re still in Chicago,” I said.

“Well that’s… uneventful. Why?” she asked.

“Remember how I told you about all of the stuff going on with Robert’s past?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Well, let’s just say he’s out there trying to rectify it.”

“I told you he was Rambo.”

“Lacey, this is serious. This guy could kill him.”

“How do you know? Maybe this isn’t as serious as you think it is.”

“I know because he took me, Lacey.”

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

“So, back up. What the fuck do you mean by ‘he took me’?”

“Remember the day of the meeting? When I went on my walk?” I asked.

“Yeah. You didn’t want to come celebrate because you weren’t feeling well.”

“I thought some fresh air would do me some good. But I was pulled into an alleyway and taken into an abandoned building by this guy.”

“Why the fuck am I just now hearing about this! I’m calling the police.”

“Don’t. I actually think the police might already know,” I said.

“And what the hell makes you think that?”

“Robert and I had another baby appointment this morning, but he didn’t get into the car with me. I think it was because he saw this guy. Slate.”

“Slate? Seriously?”

“Yeah. That’s what he says his name is. Or his nickname, anyway.”

“Does Robert have a nickname?”

“Lacey, I know humor is how you cope with stress, but this is serious.”

“Come on. What’s the nickname? If it’s Rambo, I swear I’m gonna laugh for days.”

“It’s Boulder,” I said.

“Like… Colorado?” she asked.

“Like he’s a massive boulder of muscle and when you put a gun in his hand he looks terrifying.”

Maynard started chuckling and the sound drew a grin across my cheeks.

“Lacey, I could lose him,” I said breathlessly.

“I’m going to be honest, I think you’re way in over your head. Part of me wants to fly in, kick that damn door down, and take you with me. But I can tell in your voice that you do feel safe through all this insanity.”

“I do feel safe. I just hope Robert stays safe. I need him to come back.”

“And if he’s made it this far in his life, then he will,” she said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Honestly, I don’t. My mind is spinning with what you’re going through and I’m upset I haven’t kept better tabs on you.”

“You don’t have to keep tabs on me.”

“I’m your best friend, and I’ve been too caught up in my own success and happiness to stop and consider what you’ve really been going through.”

“Lacey, you’re living your life. There’s nothing wrong with that. I am glad you called, though.”

“You said you think the police already know. What makes you say that?”

“Ever since all of this started, there’s been four security guards. Everywhere we go. Four of them. But right now, only one is with me.”

“So you assume the other three are with him.”

“Exactly.”

“Then maybe they’re gonna beat this asshole’s face in so the two of you can play house or whatever.”

“Or whatever. Thanks,” I said flatly.

“Can I be honest with you for a second? Really, truly honest?”

“When are you ever not?”

“Ever since I found out you were pregnant.”

“Then don’t hold back. That was almost a month ago,” I said.

“I don’t like this guy. He corners you in your dressing room and you screw around with him, then he disappears. He’s got this guy breathing down his neck, he pops up in Chicago, and suddenly you’re thrust into a world of gangsters and threats and personal bodyguards. And I get it. He’s trying to protect you. And you sound okay, so he’s obviously succeeding. But I can also hear how attached you’re getting in your voice. And I’m worried this man isn’t what he says he is. That he’s secretly some underworld criminal or something and you’re wrapped up in things that are way beyond you.”

“It’s not like that,” I said. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“But do you really know him?” she asked.

“I do,” I said. “I really do. I know he’s a man who lost his family in a house fire. A boy who was shipped off to an orphanage with no hope of ever being adopted. I know he fell into the wrong crowd because he was angry and scared and confused and alone. And I know how all of that feels. I know he did everything he could, including things he’s not proud of in order to get away from that life and go to school. To build something his family would adore him for if they were still alive. And again, I know how all of that feels. I know he’s a strong man. A ruthless man. A crass man, at times. But I also see the care he has for me. The delicate hands he uses when he’s holding me. I know I feel safe wrapped up in him and I know, with all my heart, that I can’t raise this child without him.”

I felt tears rising in my eyes as I looked out the window of my bedroom.

“Well. Who would I be if I questioned a plea like that from my best friend?” Lacey asked. “But I still want to meet this guy. Formally. Not some quick handshake before he’s off to another room. I want to look him in his eyes and talk with him.”

“Then once whatever this all is comes to a close, we’ll make it happen. His home base is in New York City, so there’s that.”

“But yours is in North Carolina. Have you guys talked about that yet?”

I sighed as the sun slowly started to sink in the evening sky.

“Not yet. But hopefully he’ll be back soon and we can,” I said.

“I want you to take care of yourself, Joanna. You’re strong, but you’ve been through a lot in your life already. It’s not your responsibility to shoulder the world. It’s only your responsibility to be happy in it.”

“And I am happy when I’m with him,” I said.

“Then let’s hope he gets back from wherever the hell he is soon.”

“I love you, Lacey.”

“I love you too, girl. And if you need anything-- someone to talk with, someone to cry to, an alibi for murder-- you call me.”

I giggled and shook my head as Maynard peeked over his shoulder. He grinned at me before he nodded his head, then he went back to staring at the wall.

I wondered how much money they got paid to stare at the wall.

“Talk to you soon,” I said.

“You better,” Lacey said.

I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the mattress. I pulled the curtains of the window in my room back and took in the colors of the sunset. I had grown attached to Robert. To the man who was the father of my child. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. The mere idea of Slate harming him in some way, or worse, made me sick to my stomach. A tear fell down my cheek as I turned away from the beautiful sight and I made my way into the living room.

And Maynard took up his position by the front door.

I pulled up a chair and sat as the sun cast a warm glow over my body. I closed my eyes and allowed the tears to slide down my cheeks. I didn’t know what I could do. I didn’t know how to help him. I knew he was walking into danger and I knew what Slate was capable of doing, but I had nothing else at my disposal to use.

But I did have one thing I knew would draw him to me.

And wherever he was, I hoped he could hear me.

“Signore, ascolta. Ah, signore, ascolta! Liù non regge più. Si spezza il cuore, ahimè. Ahimè. Quanto cammino.”

I sang out over the horizon the infamous love aria from my character in my opera. A heart-wrenching song sung by Liu who is pleading with the prince to not go through with the trials of the princess. To not give his life and instead live it with her. I sang the aria out towards the horizon, hoping the echoes of my voice rang out over the expanse of Chicago. The notes floated to the ceiling and words fell from my lips, and I braced my body for the onslaught of tears that ran down my cheeks.

I wanted Robert to hear my pleas. I wanted him to hear me begging him to stop. I wanted him to hear the desperation in my voice when it finally hit his ears so he would know I needed him to I wanted him.

Needed him.

Like the breath in my lungs of the song at the tip of my tongue.

I wanted the song to bring him back home. To bring him back to me. Because the home I had craved for so many years wasn’t a state or a place. North Carolina wasn’t my home anymore than Chicago had become my home. It wasn’t a place where I had grown up or a place where I had flourished or even a place I could create for the child growing within me.

Home was a feeling. A safe haven for those who needed a place to exist without fear.

And I felt that safety in Robert’s arms.

I leaned back in my chair and allowed my head to fall back. I felt the aria take over me as I began to sing it again. My rib cage expanded with breath and my toes curled to root me to the floor. I stretched out my back to give my diaphragm enough room to belt the notes it needed to. I closed my eyes and sang it over and over again, hearing the orchestral pit grow in the distance.

I was back on stage, singing my heart out for a sea of faces. Watching the maestro wave his baton in the air and coordinate the most delicate dance of set and vocals and instruments. I could feel the rush of the performance bleeding through my veins. I could feel the stand underneath my knees as I sang for the prince.

But when I looked out into the audience, there was only one face I saw. The only face that truly stuck out. With his steely gray eyes and his cheeky grin and his strong jawline and his confident aura.

I saw Robert sitting there.

I saw Robert as I sang.

And I envisioned him walking through that door unharmed every time I started the aria over again. I used it as a prayer to plead to the heavens above that he would come back safe. That he wouldn’t give his life for any trial or trick Slate had up his sleeve.

I begged with the only thing I had at my disposal.

I begged with my music.