Jaxson Vane stood in the VIP lounge of JFK International Airport, staring at the departures board. He had a one-way ticket to Tokyo in his hand, ready to leave the toxicity of New York behind.
“Jaxson!”
He turned. Cynthia Sharpe was running toward him, ignoring the stares of the security staff. She looked disheveled, stripping away the polished armor she had worn for years as Arthur Sterling’s attack dog.
“I deleted it,” Cynthia gasped, stopping in front of him. “The article about Sophie. The blackmail. All of it. I deleted it.”
Jaxson looked at her, searching for the lie. He found only raw desperation. “Deleting a file doesn’t change who you are, Cynthia.”
“No, but leaving with you might,” she said, reaching for his hand. “You were right. I was chasing a ghost because I was afraid of something real. I don’t want to be the villain in William’s story anymore. I want to be… whatever we are.”
Jaxson looked at the woman who had spent months plotting destruction, now begging for construction. He dropped his ticket to Tokyo into the trash can.
“We aren’t going to Tokyo,” Jaxson said, interlacing his fingers with hers. “Let’s go somewhere where nobody knows the name Croft.”