Chapter 2: The Flight Home
Chapter 2: The Flight Home
Ava pressed both hands over her mouth.
Forty million dollars.
She did not understand what that number meant. She only knew it sounded enormous—big enough to make grown-ups whisper instead of talk.
Under the desk, her knees hurt from kneeling on the hardwood floor, but she did not dare move.
Nathan opened another folder.
"There are still three trusts left," he said. "The education fund. The charitable foundation. And the adoption trust he created for Ava."
Vanessa's expression hardened instantly.
"Close the adoption trust."
Nathan hesitated.
"I can't do that directly. Grant made Ava the primary beneficiary. Any major change requires either his signature or proof that she's no longer under his guardianship."
Vanessa swirled the wine in her glass.
"Then we'll make sure neither becomes a problem."
A cold silence settled over the room.
Even hidden beneath the desk, Ava could feel it.
Nathan lowered his voice.
"I'm already taking a huge risk. Financial fraud is one thing. Anything involving the child..."
Vanessa interrupted him with an icy smile.
"I'm not talking about hurting her."
She walked toward the window overlooking the rain-soaked gardens.
"I'm talking about sending her away."
Nathan frowned.
"Where?"
"A therapeutic boarding school in Switzerland. We'll tell everyone she's struggling emotionally because Grant abandoned her."
"He didn't abandon me," Ava whispered so quietly that even she barely heard the words.
Vanessa continued.
"By the time Grant returns, she'll believe I was the only person who stayed."
Nathan looked unconvinced.
"And if Grant comes back unexpectedly?"
Vanessa laughed.
"He won't."
She lifted her phone.
"I spoke with his London attorneys yesterday. The investigation is dragging on, his passport is tied up with the court, and every advisor around him is telling him to stay exactly where he is."
She smiled confidently.
"We have months."
The office door closed behind them.
Their footsteps faded down the hallway.
Only then did Ava crawl out from beneath the desk.
Her entire body was shaking.
She stared at the framed photograph of herself and Grant.
In the picture she was laughing, her tiny hands tangled in his hair while he carried her on his shoulders through a field of wildflowers.
He had smiled exactly the way fathers smiled in storybooks.
"I'll always come back to you."
His promise echoed in her head.
Ava wiped away her tears.
She remembered something else.
When Grant first adopted her, he had shown her a small silver phone hidden inside the bottom drawer of his desk.
"This phone is only for emergencies," he had told her.
"If anything ever feels wrong, call me."
She dropped to her knees beside the desk.
The bottom drawer was locked.
For one terrifying moment she thought the phone was gone.
Then she remembered.
Grant never kept the key on his ring.
He had taped it underneath the drawer.
Her tiny fingers searched underneath the wood.
Nothing.
She searched again.
Then—
Click.
The tiny brass key fell into her palm.
She unlocked the drawer.
Inside lay passports...
important papers...
and the small silver cellphone exactly where Grant had left it.
The battery still showed half a charge.
Ava almost cried with relief.
She quickly closed the drawer, locked it again, and hurried into the hallway.
Voices.
Someone was coming.
She darted into the nearest closet, squeezing herself between winter coats and storage boxes.
Her hands trembled so badly she nearly dropped the phone.
She scrolled through the contacts.
There were only three names.
Grant.
Emergency Security.
Margaret.
She pressed Grant's name.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her heart sank.
Maybe he had changed his number.
Maybe he was asleep in London.
Maybe—
The line connected.
A deep, familiar voice answered.
"Ava?"
She burst into tears.
"D-Dad..."
There was complete silence on the other end.
Then his voice became instantly alert.
"Sweetheart? What's wrong?"
She struggled to breathe.
"I wasn't supposed to use the phone..."
"You're okay," Grant said softly. "Take your time."
"They... they were in your office."
"Who?"
"Miss Vanessa... and Mr. Nathan."
Grant didn't interrupt.
Years of negotiating billion-dollar deals had taught him that silence often revealed more than questions ever could.
Ava sniffled.
"They said she's moving your money."
Grant's face went completely still.
"They moved forty million."
His pulse spiked.
"What else did they say?"
"They said... they said you'll stay in London."
Another pause.
"And?"
"They want to send me away."
Grant slowly stood from the conference table where he'd been reviewing legal documents with three attorneys overlooking the River Thames.
Every lawyer in the room immediately noticed the change in his expression.
His lead attorney frowned.
"Grant?"
Grant ignored him.
He focused entirely on the tiny voice trembling through the phone.
"Ava."
"Yes?"
"Are you safe right now?"
"I'm hiding in the closet."
"Did anyone see you call me?"
"I don't think so."
Grant looked toward his chief of security, who happened to be reviewing travel schedules nearby.
Their eyes met.
One look was enough.
Security immediately understood something was terribly wrong.
Grant spoke calmly, every word precise.
"Listen carefully, sweetheart."
"I'm listening."
"I need you to stay exactly where you are until I tell you otherwise."
"What if they find me?"
"They won't."
His voice carried a certainty that instantly steadied her breathing.
"And I need you to remember one more thing."
"What?"
"I'm coming home."
Ava closed her eyes.
"You promise?"
Grant didn't hesitate.
"I've never broken a promise to you."
He ended the call.
Then he turned toward everyone in the conference room.
The attorneys waited.
One of them finally spoke.
"We still have tomorrow's hearing."
Grant calmly gathered the files into one neat stack.
"No."
The lawyer blinked.
"No?"
Grant buttoned his suit jacket.
"My daughter just called me."
Silence.
"Someone is stealing from my company."
Another silence.
"They're also threatening my family."
He looked directly at his security chief.
"Have my jet ready in thirty minutes."
The attorney stood abruptly.
"You can't leave Britain tonight. The investigators—"
Grant's icy stare stopped him midsentence.
"They can interview me in America."
Outside, rain hammered against London's skyline.
Inside the conference room, everyone realized the same thing at once.
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Someone back in Connecticut had just made the biggest mistake of their lives.
Because Grant Holloway was already on his way home.
