Page 107 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

“I have a house. In the country. If we make it there, then the paparazzi will not follow us. I’m certain that once we leave the urban sprawl, they’ll give up.”

“I thought that you had to get back to your company.”

“It would be a good idea, but do you not see...” He looked in the rearview mirror. “There’s an entire cavalcade.”

She looked, worried. And then she began to text.

“Your work wives?”

“Yes. I’m asking them for some help.”

“See if they can create a diversion.”

“I will.”

But the car was gaining on them, and there was a photographer hanging out the window, taking his picture.

It sent panic through him. He couldn’t quite say why. Because Seraphina was dead, so what did any of this matter? Except it was him. He disliked seeing all of this in black and white so intensely because it highlighted his culpability in all of it. And if he was going to take his father down, perhaps he should take himself down with him. Perhaps... Perhaps there was nothing about him that was worth much of anything at all.

Perhaps he deserved to be gone as well.

But it was better, yes, it was better, and perhaps it was for him, to go through life as an avenging angel. To act as if his mission to destroy Javier would atone for something. How could it?

A few of the cars abandoned them as they continued on down the winding roads, as he began to drive faster.

“Be careful,” she said, hanging onto the door handle.

“I’m being careful,” he said.

But then, they came to a crossroads, and a dark SUV pulled out quickly in front of them. He swerved, and the car went off the road, and when he realized that the passenger side was about to connect with the tree, he corrected sharply, hitting the front end, the airbags failing to deploy, his head making a cracking impact against the steering wheel. His face was throbbing, and he felt warm blood running down his cheekbones.

“Matias...” Her voice was distant.

“I’m fine,” he said, seeing if the engine would start. It did. He threw his car into reverse, and drove even faster down the road, blood spilling into his eyes. His vision blurred, but he kept on driving. At least the paparazzi were no longer in pursuit. He pulled off quickly to a hidden road, and then the other, which would take him to his gated estate here in the country. He entered the code, and started to drive up the road and toward the house. It was several kilometers off of the main road, and they would not be disturbed there. It was nearly impossible to get inside.

“Matias.”

For the first time, he glanced over at Auggie. She looked terrified, pale. There was a large bruise forming on her cheek.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m not great. Why didn’t the airbags deploy?”

“I don’t know. And I will buy the manufacturer and put them out of business.”

“I don’t know that that’s necessary.”

“You’re hurt,” she said.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Your head has been split open.”

“It will heal.”

“You probably have a concussion.”

“I’m fine. I’m thinking clearly. I was able to drive us here.”