So yeah. Serena was doing her best to stay positive until she could find a way back to civilization because what else was she going to do? She was all Gracie had in the world. She needed to be strong for her baby. And sure, looking on the bright side got harder and harder each day, but the alternative was unthinkable.
She finished brushing her long dark hair, then wandered back over to check on her daughter. They had each other. It was enough. Honestly, it was more than she’d had at that age. Whoever her biological mother had been, she’d left baby Serena in a box at a fire station and never returned. Margaret and Harold Carson, wealthy chocolatiers, had adopted her at four months and the rest was history. Never once had they made Serena feel like she wasn’t their flesh and blood, and she couldn’t imagine having any other parents.
They were a family. By love, if not by blood. Even the plane crash couldn’t take that away.
Gracie stirred in her crib and Serena smiled down, reaching a hand in for her tiny daughter to grasp. “Hey, there baby girl. Momma loves you. Yes, she does. Momma loves you so much. Momma—”
A loud crash cut off her words. Pulse tripping, Serena’s gaze darted to the door. Oh God. Were the thugs back again? She’d heard some of the staff whispering the other day when they thought she didn’t notice. She didn’t speak much Spanish, but still picked out the words matar and la heredera—“kill” and “the heiress”—so yeah. Not reassuring at all.
Her pulse raced as muffled male voices echoed up the stairs to the second floor where Serena’s room was located. That was new. Men were always there, making sure she didn’t escape, but they’d largely left her alone. On a regular basis, she only interacted with the cleaning staff. She could only think of one reason for the men to break from the usual protocol.
Whoever had abducted her must be making good on their promise at last.
She still remembered that night she’d been taken, after they’d bundled her into the back of the vehicle. She’d heard the thugs call their boss, the person in charge, and tell him that she was pregnant. At that point, it seemed that her kidnapper had grown a conscience and balked at the idea of murdering an unborn baby, so they’d left her alive—for the time being. But now that Gracie had been born, and had grown enough to be a little less dependent on her mother at all hours of the night and day, apparently their morals had worn out.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Doing her best to stay calm and think rationally, even as her adrenaline spiked, Serena gathered up Gracie in her arms and rushed over to the closet, stopping to shove her feet into a pair of flimsy sandals, the only footwear her captors allowed her to have. Not great for running, but then that was probably the point.
Outside the bedroom door, the voices grew louder and more agitated as footsteps pounded closer.
As if sensing her mother’s growing panic, Gracie started to fuss inside the blanket she was tucked in, and Serena held her closer to her chest, praying to anyone who would listen to please keep her baby safe through whatever was about to happen next.
Holding her daughter with one arm, she yanked up a loose floorboard with the other hand, fishing around inside for the small makeshift knapsack she kept there. One of the housekeepers, Rosita, had become a friend to Serena over the months and had slipped her cash and other supplies whenever she could. Serena had stashed it all away for safe keeping, in hopes that one day she might be able to use it all when she finally made a run for it.
Looked like that day had arrived.
It wasn’t much. The equivalent of a couple hundred bucks in the local currency, a few protein bars, some bottled water, diapers, baby wipes, a couple extra onesies. Enough to hopefully last until she could hitch a ride to Frederickston, St. Dourdane’s capital city, and contact the American Embassy. She had no idea exactly where in the country the villa was located, but from the distance they’d traveled when she’d been kidnapped, Serena guessed it was on the other side of the small country from her family estate—which meant it would take about a day to get to the city.
Well, no matter how long it took, she would get there. For Gracie.
Originally, she’d planned to plot out a course and go over it in her head beforehand. But if the thugs were planning to take her out today, there was no time to wait.
The sound of a fight down the hall kicked her into high gear. Serena threw the strap of the knapsack over her shoulder and hurried to the window to open the wooden blinds. Something must be happening for them to attack during the day. She squinted into the sunlight, then climbed up onto the sill. It was about thirty feet down to the ground, but fortunately the architects of the villa had designed it with lots of lots of window boxes and décor that made climbing easier. Or it would have been without
