Page 22 of The Boss's Hideaway Baby

“Understood, sir. We will work with the police to take down this threat. But for now, you need to lie low and out of sight,” the man on the other line advises.

“But I want to help. There must be something I can do,” Nathan protests.

“Sir, the best thing for you to do right now is to wait it out in hiding. Your safety comes first,” the specialist replies firmly.

“Fine,” Nathan concedes with a sigh, ending the call. He runs his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated by the situation. I can understand why; being forced to step back from running his business must be hard for him.

“Hey,” I say softly, placing my hand on his arm. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this.”

“Thanks, Maria,” he replies, giving me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But as we continue driving, I can feel our connection growing stronger. This crazy, unexpected turn of events might have thrown us together, but it’s also revealing new facets of our relationship.

Traffic hums around us as we make our way out of Manhattan, and I can’t help but glance over at Nathan. He’s clearly upset about having to leave his business behind, especially with the new building just being approved.

“Look, Nathan,” I begin tentatively, “I know this is hard for you, but no one will forget about you or your projects. You’re… well, you’re kind of unforgettable.”

He chuckles softly, and the sound warms my heart like hot cocoa on a snowy day. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

As we cross the bridge toward Long Island, the city lights twinkle beneath a velvet sky, almost as if they’re reassuring Nathan that everything will be okay.

“I really appreciate you taking me to your family’s place,” he says suddenly, his voice sincere. “And I promise, I’ll pay you for it.”

“Pay me?” My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No. You don’t have to pay me anything. I’m doing this as your friend, not because I want something in return.”

His eyes widen slightly, as if the concept offends him. “But?—”

“Seriously, Nathan,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “No money. No favors. Just two people helping each other out.” I gesture between us, hoping to drive home my point. “Besides, I have a feeling that you’d do the same for me if the tables were turned.”

He studies me for a moment, weighing my words. Then, slowly, he nods. “You’re right. I would. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I reply with a smile, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel as we continue our journey.

As the city disappears in the rearview mirror, I find myself thinking about his gratitude and my own willingness to help him. It’s strange how being thrust into danger can bring people closer together. But there’s no denying the bond that has formed between us.

With each rotation of my tires, I feel the walls around my heart crumbling just a little more — and for the first time in a long while, I’m not afraid of what lies on the other side.

I glance over at Nathan, who’s fidgeting in the passenger seat. His eyes are glued to the rearview mirror, scanning for any signs of danger. I admire his determination, even as fear gnaws at the edges of my own thoughts.

“Once we get to my family’s place, we’ll be safe,” I reassure him, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Thank you, Maria.” Nathan’s voice is quiet but sincere. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I do hate that I’ve drawn you into this, though.”

As I’m about to respond, a pair of headlights appears behind us, growing brighter and more aggressive by the second. My heart leaps into my throat as I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

“Wait, is that…?” Nathan trails off, his eyes widening with alarm.

“Stay calm,” I say, though fear has taken hold of me. I press down on the gas pedal, trying to put some distance between us and the car tailing us. But it only seems to encourage them, as they speed up as well.

“They’re getting closer!” Nathan exclaims, gripping the door handle tightly.

“Can you call the security team? Tell them what’s happening. Surely they can help us?” I clutch the wheel, keeping my gaze on the road.

“Right, right,” he stammers, fumbling with his phone.

In the meantime, I take a deep breath and force myself to channel every action movie I’ve ever seen. I swerve around a slower-moving vehicle, cutting it close enough to hear the horn blare in protest. Nathan’s phone slips out of his hand as he grabs onto the dashboard.

“Got it!” he shouts, managing to snatch the phone from the floor. “I’m calling them now.”

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