"Calm down, Zane," I breathed, grabbing his hand in mine. Dad stood behind me as he grabbed his shoulder.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know. Home?"
"You haven't checked there?!" Dad demanded as he exchanged a look with Mom.
"She told me to stay away. So I have."
"For fucks sake Zane. Get in the car. Alice, Gretchen, get in the house." He ordered, shaking his head in disbelief as we defied him, climbing back into the car.
"Do I even exist in this family?! Raven, call Rosie."
Mom nodded as Zane gazed out of the window, biting his nails.
"Hey, she will be okay," I tried reassuring him as he continued to stare straight ahead.
"What if she's not?"
"Zane. Get a grip. She will be fine."
"I hope you're right."
29
LUCAS
The best thing about flying with hand luggage is not having to wait around that fucking carousel with the rest of the human race. I was already irritated; I didn't need that to finish me off.
I turned my phone on, waiting as it searched for the local network. Finally, I rang Richie, letting him know I had landed back.
"The jet landed back today, Boss. We have an address for Miss Fallon if you want it."
My heart thudded in my chest as my irritation melted away.
"She's with her family right now; all four of them got into a car and went straight to this address. I've got someone there watching."
"Good," I murmured as I told him to send a car for me. "I'll go straight there."
I passed through security, stopping to pick up a bite to eat. I relaxed, knowing Alice was with her father.
He would take care of her.
Eventually, I got the message from my driver, letting me know he was outside. I made my way out of the airport, groaning when I realized it was now freezing, without the Italian sun to warm my bones. My breath crystallized immediately, and I hurried to the car.
"Mr. Deacon," greeted Angelo, my trusty driver. "Safe trip?"
"All is well, thank you."
I eased myself back into the seat as he walked around to the driver's seat.
"No lady today? I thought maybe you would have brought her home with you?"
Angelo had been my driver for many years and was a good friend of my father's. Only he could get away with being so invasive with his questioning.
"I didn't choose a bride," I said, simply gazing out of the window.
"I see. Would Miss Fallon have anything to do with that?"
