GREGORY'S POV
Getting on the jet to fly back to Salt Lake City was the only option left after the disaster in Comoros. I was still reeling from the shock. All the money I had carefully hidden away—stolen, just like that. My head pounded with frustration and disbelief, but at least I had been smart enough to split the funds. The Cayman Islands account was still untouched, a secret no one else knew.
When the jet touched down in Salt Lake City, I stepped off the plane and walked out of the terminal, scanning the crowd. There she was—Laurene, waiting for me. The moment I saw her, something inside me loosened, even just a little. We embraced tightly, neither of us saying a word. She took my hand, offering silent comfort, and we made our way to the car.