A stranger beside me on a flight asked, “Could you pretend you fell asleep on my shoulder?” I almost said no. I had just left Chicago with my five-year-old daughter, two suitcases, and a marriage that had fallen apart three days earlier. But I agreed. Two hours later, I woke up still leaning against him—and discovered the quiet man beside me was one of the country’s best-known billionaires. Then my phone reconnected, and a message from my ex-husband appeared: I KNOW YOU TOOK FIONA TO NEW YORK.

for two days because he was working.

When he did come over, he never asked for details about the case unless I brought them up.

That mattered.

David had made me feel as though privacy was something I had to earn.

Luca treated it as something that belonged to me automatically.

After ten days, Miriam told me we needed to return to Chicago for a hearing.

My stomach dropped.

“I don’t want Fiona walking through an airport with reporters.”

“There may not be reporters.”

“There were people filming Luca on the first flight.”

“That is a Luca problem, not a Blaire problem,” Miriam said. “And I mean that kindly.”

I laughed despite myself.

She continued.

“You need to be careful not to let his world swallow your case. Your case is about you, David, and Fiona.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Luca offered his plane.

My first instinct