CARA's POV
The moment I stepped off the jet, the heat hit like a wall—dense, wet, and blinding. Sunlight flared off the tarmac in waves, and the air smelled like salt and hibiscus, tinged with jet fuel. I didn’t get a chance to adjust.
A man in a black suit—one of Wesley’s—nodded to us silently and opened the door to a sleek, armored SUV. Cooper motioned me in without a word. I slid into the leather seat and immediately regretted wearing jeans. Wesley climbed in after me, his tablet already back in hand, his sunglasses still on. We didn’t speak.
The engine purred to life. The windows were tinted so dark I could barely make out the winding streets of Bridgetown, let alone the faces of anyone outside. Still, I felt them watching.
Even Cooper was quiet. He sat at the front, his posture rigid, head angled just slightly toward the road, as if anticipating threats that hadn’t even surfaced yet.
The ride took maybe twenty minutes, but it felt longer. The city gave way to cliffs, greenery, fl
