Chapter 12 - The Cream Handbag
The black Maybach glided smoothly through the private aviation gates of Teterboro Airport.
Rain pattered lightly against the tinted glass, smearing the amber runway lights into streaks of gold.
Emily sat in the leather passenger seat, clutching a cream-colored Bottega Veneta handbag in her lap.
It was a gift from Daniel on their first wedding anniversary—simple, elegant, and cherished.
Inside were her prenatal vitamins, ultrasound scans, and the tiny velvet pouch holding her mother’s silver locket.
Beside her, Daniel was furiously typing on his encrypted tablet, reviewing merger documents for the Aspen meetings.
Yet, even while working, his left hand stayed locked around Emily’s fingers.
“The pilot said the weather over the Midwest looks completely clear,” Daniel said without looking up from the screen.
“Good,” Emily replied, feeling an uncomfortable tightness across the lower curve of her stomach.
The car stopped directly beneath the towering wing of a gleaming white Gulfstream G650.
A flight attendant in a navy uniform stood at the base of the airstair, holding a large umbrella.
A few yards away, another town car door swung open.
Vanessa stepped out onto the wet tarmac, holding her own umbrella with effortless, aristocratic grace.
Her white suit remained pristine, untouched by the damp mist drifting across the concrete.
She glanced over at the Maybach, watching Daniel step out and immediately rush to open Emily’s door.
He supported Emily by the elbow, shielding her carefully under his jacket as she stepped onto the tarmac.
Vanessa’s lips curled into a thin, bitter line.
She hated the way Daniel looked at the girl.
She hated the protective instincts Emily effortlessly drew out of a man raised to be a ruthless corporate killer.
“Hurry along, both of you,” Vanessa called out, her voice cutting cleanly through the hum of the jet engines.
“Air traffic control gave us a strict departure window.”
Emily held her cream handbag tightly against her ribs as she climbed the steep stairs into the aircraft.
Each step felt heavy, the weight of eight months pulling at her lower back.
As she stepped into the cabin, a wave of warmth and the rich scent of Italian leather greeted her.
Behind her, Vanessa ascended the stairs with silent, predatory precision.
May you like
The cabin door sealed shut with a heavy, hydraulic hiss.
They were sealed inside a flying vault, miles above the earth, with no escape.
