Barbados.
The private jet touched down just as the tropical sun reached its zenith, casting a golden sheen across the palm-fringed tarmac.
Tyler stepped off first, followed by Helena and Devin. The air was warm but not oppressive, with a breeze carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus.
A pair of luxury SUVs waited nearby—one for Helena and Devin, and another for Tyler and David.
Their chauffeur, dressed sharply in light resort linens, gave a polite nod. "Welcome to Barbados, Mr. Tyler. Your mother and brother will be taken to the villa immediately. It's stocked and ready."
Helena touched Tyler's arm. "You sure you don't want to come with us first?"
"I'll join you soon," Tyler said, smiling. "There's just one thing I need to take care of."
Helena didn't argue. She simply reached up and smoothed the front of his shirt with that same motherly instinct she always had. "Be safe, alright?"
"I will."
