A stranger beside me on a flight asked, “Could you pretend you fell asleep on my shoulder?” I almost said no. I had just left Chicago with my five-year-old daughter, two suitcases, and a marriage that had fallen apart three days earlier. But I agreed. Two hours later, I woke up still leaning against him—and discovered the quiet man beside me was one of the country’s best-known billionaires. Then my phone reconnected, and a message from my ex-husband appeared: I KNOW YOU TOOK FIONA TO NEW YORK.

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do not go out there alone.”

“I won’t.”

I heard Natalie’s husband talking in the background.

Then Natalie said, “Come here if you can. If you can’t, call me the second you know where you’re going.”

“I will.”

When the plane reached the gate, most passengers stood immediately.

Luca remained seated.

So did I.

Fiona woke and rubbed her eyes.

“Are we in New York?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Is Cousin Natalie here?”

“Soon.”

The flight attendant quietly asked us to wait.

A few minutes later, a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit entered the aircraft and walked toward us.

“Mr. Sterling.”

“Marcus.”

His eyes moved to me.

“This is Blaire.”

Marcus nodded politely.