Chapter 6

Adriana POV:

The morning of departure arrived with a sickly grey light that promised another scorching day. The air in the sealed apartment was stale with unspoken hostility.

At 8 a.m., I unlocked the bedroom door. My mother and I were ready, our single, small bags packed and waiting. I walked out into the living room. Bryant and Katia were already dressed, standing by the door with their own luggage. Bryant looked like he hadn't slept.

"The shuttle pickup is at the west entrance," he said, not looking at me. "It's scheduled for 0900 sharp. You and your mother should go to the east entrance. Your transport is scheduled for 1100." He was reading from the slate he'd tried to give me, the plan I had rejected.

"We'll wait with you," I said calmly, picking up my bag. I helped my mother with hers.

Bryant's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with fury. "What did you just say? Adriana, stop this. Stop creating this drama. Go to your assigned pickup point."

"I'm not going to the east entrance," I said, my voice even.

"For the love of God, what is wrong with you?" he exploded, his voice echoing in the quiet apartment. "I am trying to save the future of economic theory, and you are staging some kind of pathetic, jealous rebellion! I have done everything for you! I supported you when you gave up your career!"

The sheer audacity of that statement hit me like a physical blow. Supported me? He had celebrated it. He had been relieved when my star began to fade and his began to rise.

"You supported nothing," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "You extinguished me."

I started to walk past him toward the door. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep. "You are not coming with us. You are going to follow the plan I laid out for you. It's the best you're going to get."

"Get your hands off me, Bryant," I said, my gaze dropping to his hand on my arm.

"No! You will listen to me!" he shouted, his face inches from mine. "You are going to get yourself and your mother killed with this stunt!"

With a strength I didn't know I possessed, I shoved him hard in the chest. He stumbled back, his face a mask of shock.

"I am done listening to you," I spat. "We are over. Remember? You had me sign the papers."

Just then, a low, rhythmic thumping sound began to build from outside, growing louder and louder. It wasn't the rumble of the armored shuttle bus we were expecting. It was the sound of rotor blades.

Bryant and Katia stared at the window in confusion. I just walked to the door and opened it, leading my mother into the hallway.

Down in the private courtyard, a sleek, black helicopter was descending. Its design was military-grade, bearing the golden sunburst of the Helios Initiative. It was not a bus. It was executive transport.

As we stepped out of the building, a man in a pilot's uniform jumped out, rotor wash whipping his clothes. He consulted a data slate.

"Ms. Wilkerson?" he shouted over the noise.

"Yes!" I called back.

"Mr. Franks sent us for you and your guest. We're on a tight schedule." He moved to help my mother, treating her with a gentle respect that made my throat tighten.

Bryant and Katia had followed us out, their faces a picture of utter disbelief.

"What is this?" Bryant stammered, staring at the helicopter. "There must be a mistake."

Just then, the armored shuttle bus rumbled up to the curb. An attendant hopped out. "Shuttle for Dr. Weeks!"

Bryant, still reeling, pointed a shaky finger at Katia. "She's... she's my collaborator. Get on."

Katia, a triumphant smirk returning to her face, strutted toward the bus, ready to claim her prize.

"Hold on," the attendant said, holding up a hand to stop her. He checked his own slate. "My manifest is for Dr. Bryant Weeks and one family member, Adriana Weeks." He looked from the slate to me, then back to Bryant. "This woman is not on the list."

Katia's face fell. "But... we have a partnership. An LLC. It's all filed."

"I don't have any LLC on here, sir," the attendant said to Bryant. "The name on the family slot is Adriana Weeks. If she's not boarding with you, your +1 is forfeit."

Bryant was pale, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process the bureaucratic failure of his grand plan. He took a step toward me, his hand outstretched. "Adi, wait..."

"Sir, I'd ask you to step away," a firm voice said. The helicopter pilot had moved to stand between me and Bryant. "Ms. Wilkerson's transport is private. Please don't interfere."

The pilot then spoke into his wrist comm. "ECHO-1 is secure. On approach to Helios Prime. Passenger Wilkerson is on board, per the directive from Mr. Franks."

Bryant's head jerked as if he'd been struck. His eyes, wide with a dawning horror and a furious jealousy, locked onto mine. "Emmett Franks?" he whispered, the name a curse on his lips.