The next morning, Jade’s alarm blared at 6:00 a.m., its shrill tone piercing the silence of her small bedroom. She groaned, rolling over and slamming her hand down on the clock to silence it. Today was supposed to be the flight to Moscow, but the thought of seeing Milan, Enzo, and Thiago again made her stomach churn.
Their words from the plane echoed in her head: “You’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”
She sat up in bed, her mind racing. Everything about this arrangement felt suffocating—being watched, controlled, and told she couldn’t quit. She didn’t want to be their property or a pawn in their game. She wanted her freedom back.
“No,” Jade whispered to herself, shaking her head. “Not today. I need space.”
She grabbed her phone, turned off notifications, and crawled back under the covers. She didn’t care if Clair, or even the men, tried to reach her. For once, she was going to do what she wanted.
Hours passed, and the sun climbed higher into the sky. Jade finally stirred, stretching lazily as she glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. She felt a pang of guilt—Clair was probably freaking out, and the men were likely fuming—but she pushed it aside.
She padded into the kitchen, where her grandmother was making tea.
“Jade, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” her grandmother asked, her kind eyes filled with concern.
“Not today, Grandma,” Jade replied, pouring herself a cup of tea and sitting at the small table. “I just need a day to myself.”
Her grandmother raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue. “Well, you work so hard. You deserve a break now and then.”
Jade smiled faintly, sipping her tea. “Thanks, Grandma.”
Meanwhile, at the private airport, Clair paced back and forth on the tarmac, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She had already called Jade over a dozen times, but her calls went straight to voicemail. Her patience was wearing thin.
“She’s not answering,” Clair muttered, glancing at Milan, who stood nearby with his arms crossed. His icy-blue eyes were narrowed, and his jaw was set in a way that made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for excuses.
“Keep calling,” Milan said coldly.
Enzo leaned against the car, his phone in hand as he tried calling Jade again. “Still nothing,” he said, his tone laced with irritation. “She’s ignoring us.”
Thiago let out a low growl, pacing beside them. “She’s testing us. She wants to see how far she can push.”
Milan’s gaze darkened. “She won’t get far. She’s coming to Moscow, whether she likes it or not.”
Clair hesitated before speaking. “Should I try contacting her grandmother? Maybe she—”
“No,” Milan interrupted sharply. “We don’t involve her family in this.”
“She’s not picking up,” Enzo said, his smirk gone, replaced by a simmering anger. “What’s the plan, boss?”
Milan’s jaw tightened. “We give her an hour. If she doesn’t show, we go to her.”
Back at home, Jade lounged on the couch, flipping through TV channels aimlessly. Her phone sat on the coffee table, buzzing occasionally, but she didn’t bother looking at it. She knew who it was.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Milan’s voice replayed in her mind again. Jade scowled, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered under her breath.
The buzzing started again—this time, nonstop. Sighing, she finally picked up her phone. Her eyes widened as she saw the number of missed calls: 100.
“Clair, Clair, Clair,” Jade mumbled, scrolling through the endless list. “And, oh look, Milan, Enzo, and Thiago. How surprising.”
Her phone buzzed again, and this time it was a message from Enzo:
Enzo: “Jade, you have one hour to get here. Don’t make us come looking for you.”