HIS ENTERTAINER

Chapter 44

CLAIDE POV.

I pressed my forehead against the small window of the plane, relieved when the airport finally came into view. But even with that relief came a nervous ache. It had been almost ten years since I was last here, and I couldn't help wondering what Jennifer would look like now. Would she still be the same-silly, fierce, full of spirit like she used to be?

My last visit hadn't gone well. In fact, it was a complete mess. Hermann never liked me much, and whatever bad impression I left back then probably made things worse. For ten years, I hadn't heard a single word from him-no calls, no mission offers. If there was a competition for ghosting, he'd win without question.

But honestly? It didn't bother me like it might have before. Over time, I got used to it-got used to living without hearing from Jennifer.

The plane came to a stop, and I grabbed my briefcase from the overhead compartment. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my pounding heart, before stepping into the flow of people all heading for the exit. Maybe coming back here was a bad idea-after all, I had sworn I'd never set foot here again-but now I was swallowing my pride and moving forward.

"Lovely city, isn't it?" a woman said quietly beside me.

I gave a small, half-hearted smile, although my thoughts were somewhere else as I scanned the crowd, wondering who might be coming to pick me up.

Then, my eyes caught sight of her-a woman in a dark red bodycon dress carrying a black coat. She had long legs and dark hair falling just past her shoulders. I tried to catch her face, but she kept her head down, almost hiding it.

Before I could make sense of it all, my name came over the loudspeaker. Frowning, I clutched my briefcase tighter and headed toward the attendant's desk, bracing myself for whatever was waiting on the other side.
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GENEVIEVE POV.

I leaned against a nearby column, exhaustion settling into my bones. My mind drifted back to Norman, and I let out a slow sigh. The memories of that night-the fire, the passion-tormented me, but I forced myself to take a steadying breath.

"Wonder who he's with?" a sharp voice-belonging to a blonde woman beside me-cut through the air. I followed the direction of her gaze.

Time seemed to pause.

There he was: the very picture of tall, dark, and handsome. In his early thirties, with dark hair slicked back neatly, broad shoulders framed by a dark navy Armani jacket, he moved toward the attendant's booth with a fluid, feline grace.

I noticed other women subconsciously slowing their pace as he passed. The Delta clerk glanced toward me and then pointed in my direction. He turned.

I felt his gaze-cool, assessing-behind those shaded glasses.

That look stirred something deep inside me. From the bottom of my heart, I recognized it. The only man who could make my pulse race like this.

-Claide.

He walked straight toward me. When he was close enough, he lifted his sunglasses, revealing eyes that held a decade of unspoken stories.

Our eyes locked, and I froze. Suddenly, the haunted memories of passion and torment from that night melted away. In that moment, I lost myself completely in his gaze.

Ten years-it had been that long.

He finally broke the silence. "You've been waiting for me?" he asked quietly.

I met his eyes, voice barely above a whisper, "You have no idea how long."
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CLAIDE RODRIGUEZ POV.

Her eyes were rich and warm, the deep amber of fine brandy-soft, expressive, and impossible to look away from. They caught me and held me captive, mesmerized.

She was no longer the bright-eyed sixteen-year-old I once knew; she had grown into a stunning woman.

When I finally spoke, her reply came in a quiet whisper, barely audible but perfectly clear to me. Her glassy eyes spoke volumes-more than her hesitant words ever could. In response, I pulled her close, holding her to me.

That was all I had to give. All I could offer in that moment.

And yet, I felt utterly useless -like it was so little in my power to do right by her.
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NORMAN POV.

I played dumb, but deep down, I always knew. There was a force-unseen yet unbreakable-pulling them back together. No matter how far they drifted apart, their souls remained quietly entwined, forever aware of each other.

Claide had arrived an hour ago. For the longest time, I stood by the window, watching the two of them below. I saw Genevieve's soft giggles in response to Claide's easy humor, and the way he'd shoot her a sharp glare when she wasn't paying attention. Their silent exchanges felt like a language only they spoke.

I was supposed to be down there greeting him the moment he stepped through the door, but for reasons I didn't fully understand, my feet refused to move.

Genevieve moved among the crowd like a proud exhibitor, introducing Claide to everyone as if he were her newest trophy.

Just then, Richard crossed the room and took a place beside me, his voice low and sober. "It's been nearly ten years," he said quietly. "I didn't think they could still be that close."

"Do you have anything kind to say, or did you just come to gloat?" I teased, earning a faint smile from him. Richard had always warned me about falling too deep-though he himself was happily married. No grudges held but atleast he had the woman he'd wanted.

"Actually," he said, face darkening, "I've got bad news. Just got off the phone with Mateo. Carlos has been poisoned by Cora. And Morgan... she's gone with her."

"Damn!" My fist slammed down on the desk, sharp and raw. "Did you find their heads on their shoulders?"

Richard shook his head and lit a cigarette. "No, but I've sent my best men to track them."

Miguel snorted as he stepped in. "And you didn't say anything sooner?"

Richard's eyes narrowed. "And what would you have done differently?"

"Enough," Genevieve's voice cut through as she returned, Claide close behind her. Her gaze flicked to mine, but I looked away, unwilling to meet it.

"Welcome back," I said shortly.

Claide smiled easily. "It's good to be home."

Eve stepped forward. " What's the plan?"

"As I said," Richard replied, "the best men are on it. What Cora did is suspicious-there's a pattern here that might give us an opening."

I folded my arms, eyes narrowing. "You think she's working with the white vultures?"

Genevieve furrowed her brow. "If not, what would she want with Morgan?"

Richard and Miguel were tracking Morgan. Genevieve and Claide-just saying their names together twisted something sharp inside me-would be working the plan alongside me.

"Everyone stays on their mark. I'll prepare the men."

They all nodded in agreement, the weight of what was to come settling heavily in the room.

Thank you, my darling readers, for reading this chapter. Stay tuned for more coming up.
NB: ignore any grammatical errors.