New York felt like a grueling stage play to Scarlett this morning. Following an exhausting, soul-sucking flight, she was immediately plunged into the never-ending, inhospitable cacophony of Manhattan. Yet, it wasn't the gridlock or the blaring yellow taxi horns that unsettled her,it was the silence of her phone.
Empty. Not a single word from Julian Caldwell.
Meanwhile, inside the plush cabin of a private jet carving through the Atlantic skies, the atmosphere was suffocating for Julian. Slumped in a navy leather seat, he stared vacantly out the window at a vast expanse of white clouds. In his hand, a useless smartphone. No Signal. Satellite interference from a magnetic storm along the flight path had rendered him utterly isolated from the world. Isolated from Scarlett.
"Still trying to reach your little girl, Julian?"
