Chapter 1

ABU DHABI, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

Hollyn Reinhardt's stomach was a ball of nervous energy as the Rolls Royce pulled closer to the Eve Whitlock Gala. The prestigious event was held annually to honor those in the tech industry responsible for advancements in science. And tonight, she was receiving recognition. But not just any kind. It was the Polaris Achievement Award. Still didn't feel real.

Across from her on the rear-facing seat, Hollyn's parents spoke quietly to each other. She smiled at the way Mum's British accent contrasted with Dad's Swiss—something she'd loved from the first time she met them.

Running a hand down her emerald-green silk dress, Hollyn could hardly believe this was her life now. It was a far cry from the ten-year-old foster child dressed in ragged castoffs nearly two decades ago. Grateful didn't begin to express how she felt about Ansel and Lydia Reinhardt adopting her. Her life had changed drastically after that day. Her new parents had integrated her into their life seamlessly and without reservation. Not to say she hadn't done her fair share of testing them for a while, making sure they weren't going to dump her.

Eighteen years later, she sometimes forgot she wasn't their biological daughter. Rarely, but it happened.

Resting her hand on the door armrest, Hollyn's auburn-blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned to peer up at their destination. "Is it just me, or does the place look bigger at night?" she asked.

Abu Dhabi was a gorgeous place to live, and the Conrad Abu Dhabi Etihad Towers were an even more breathtaking sight at night. Seventy-four floors of pure luxury shining like a jewel in the sky. Not even the surrounding city could dim its shimmer. Five years living here, and she still got blown away every time she saw it.

"I can't believe this . . . "

Dad reached over and took her hand as their driver, Bongani, slowed the car behind a line of others waiting to drop off gala attendees. "You're going to do great, hon."

His blue eyes, set off against white hair and age lines in his cheeks, shone as bright as his cheery smile—the one that lifted her spirits and encouraged her on the especially hard days.

She'd almost given up on this project so many times, but something Dad had always said growing up would pop into her mind: "You can quit anytime. Just not on a bad day." The quote had cemented itself in her heart.

"I hope I don't stumble over my words." Hollyn pinched a section of her dress between her thumb and finger. She looked down at Dad's warm hand still gripping hers.

His weathered skin spoke of a life well lived and countless hours in the lab, working on the next technological breakthrough. He had a drawer full of awards identical to the one she was about to receive. Never would he display them. She, on the other hand, had every intention of hanging the plaque on the wall behind her desk. Maybe even getting a spotlight for it. Who knew if she'd ever get another.

"You've practiced your speech dozens of times, darling," Mum said. "You'll be brilliant." She leaned forward to adjust Hollyn's jeweled clip, holding her hair at the temple.

Hollyn tried to put on a confident smile, though really she just felt like throwing up. She belonged in a lab, not in front of a thousand of the biggest names in tech, giving a speech.

What do I know? I'm . . . nobody!

"Here we are." Bongani pulled up to the portico and put the car in Park.

Dozens of camera flashes bombarded the car on either side of a red velvet carpet, as if this were a movie premier.

"Deep breath, now," Mum said with a wink.

Hollyn drew in air as an attendant opened the back door. She took the man's gloved hand and stepped out, praying she wouldn't trip in the heels she almost never wore. Waiting as Mum and Dad emerged behind her only made black spots dot her eyes as the photographers snapped away. Walking inside was going to be interesting.

Like a knight in shining armor, Dad held out his free arm, and Hollyn took it, relief flooding her.

"Look at me." His boastful voice was quiet as he led her and Mum toward the double doors ahead. He smiled for the paparazzi like he'd been born for this life. "Just an old coot, and I've got the two prettiest girls on my arms."

Hollyn and her mum laughed.

"Lucky, I suppose, dear," Mum joked.

Hollyn loved listening to her parents. Married forty-four years and still as in love as ever. She wanted that someday. Too bad the only person she'd ever pictured it with was halfway across the world. Probably even married now. They hadn't spoken in, what . . . eight years? That's right. At the café in Venice.

Anxiety soon shoved thoughts of a certain six-foot-three hunk from her mind as they were greeted by guests and thrown into full-on mingling. Hollyn had never been good at small talk. Once, at a banquet, she'd asked an Italian delegate if he and his mother were having a good time sightseeing. It'd been the guy's wife. Cue her wishing she could melt into the floor.

Blessedly, tonight she was spared most of the chitchat, as her good friends Leila Pierce and Archie Durand found her soon after she stepped into the Grand Ballroom.

"So proud of you, Hollyn!" Leila wrapped her up in a tight embrace before pulling away and brushing back her dark hair with a lace-gloved hand. Flawless, tanned skin from countless beach days, wide green eyes, and a figure that said she spent hours in the gym—which was absolutely untrue—set the woman apart as probably the most stunning person Hollyn knew. She always felt like a nun in comparison.

Tonight was no exception. Leila wore a black evening gown that brushed the carpeted floor and sparkled under the ballroom chandeliers. It hugged curves Hollyn could only wish for. Her friend looked like a princess . . . if you ignored the dress's side slit, which ran dangerously high up her toned thigh. That was Leila, though. Always pushing the limits.

It was a wonder Leila had even befriended her a year ago.

Archie slid his hands in his pockets. "You really deserve this, Hol."

He and Hollyn worked closely in the lab, and he was one of her biggest supporters. Always encouraging her. Always ready to step in when she was stumped. He flashed a wide grin, the black glasses he wore tonight matching equally dark hair that somehow managed to simultaneously be long and curly yet perfectly styled atop his head. Hollyn also noted that, while he'd donned a tux, he hadn't abandoned his trademark Converse. What she wouldn't give for a pair those now.

"Thanks, guys. I feel like such a fraud, though."

"Okay, well, we're not listening to talk like that." Leila winked at a passing waiter even as she spoke to Hollyn.

"Tonight, everyone finds out what we've known for a long time," Archie interjected, gaze locked on her. "You're incredible."

Hollyn didn't deserve friends like them. Though she'd suspected for a little while that Archie's intentions leaned more toward the romantic side of the aisle, he hadn't made a move yet. Which was okay. Very okay. She didn't feel that way about him.

"Come on. I need a drink." Leila took Hollyn's hand and sashayed toward the bar, catching just about every male eye in the place.

Caught up in conversation with her friends, Hollyn lost track of time. Before she knew it, she was standing offstage as Dad introduced her—with not a little bragging—to the crowd. Once he swung an arm her way, Hollyn strode forward. Shaking like a leaf, she couldn't bring herself to look at the clapping people at dozens of cocktail-style tables, so she focused on Dad.

Just get to the podium and you'll have something to hang on to.

Forget the podium. Once she was near enough, he gathered her in a firm hug she wished she could stay in. "Knock 'em dead, kiddo."

"Thanks," she whispered.

When he pulled back, he knuckled away a tear.

That single thing sparked her own. She wiped at the rogue drop as he bypassed the gold plaque she was very familiar with in favor of a small, velvet box also on the glass stand.

Hollyn's curiosity was officially piqued. "What . . . "

"First things first." Dad's voice was amplified by the mic as everyone settled. "I know tonight is about the Polaris my daughter has earned with her incredible research and advancement in the field of artificial intelligence, but a dad can't pass up an opportunity to do something special for his Sparrow."

The use of the nickname only he used for her nearly sent Hollyn's tears over the edge. Already it was hard to see him through watery eyes. The crowd's collective "aww" didn't help things.

Hollyn opened the box. An elegant gold necklace rested inside. She lifted it out. At the middle of the delicate chain, there was a small gold globe, and slightly off-center from it was the silhouette of a flying sparrow. Like the bird was flying to the world. Or around the world.

These had been her dreams for the longest time—make a serious advancement in the world of tech and see as many countries as she could. She was up to a whopping four so far.

"I'm so proud of you." Dad's steady gaze was fixed on her like she was the only one in the room. "The hard work and countless hours you've spent honing your craft and making leaps and bounds in your area of expertise are wonderful, of course. No one can deny that you're a prodigy. But more, I'm proud of the woman you've become and the daughter that your mother and I got"—he looked at his watch, and she caught a glimpse of the number tattoo the three of them shared—"eighteen years, five months, and three days—almost four—ago."

He'd been counting that, exactly? Hollyn couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They fell hot along her cheeks. Her makeup was as good as wrecked, but she didn't care.

"You have a strong moral character. You know what you want and you go after it. You're kind, loving, and you're beautiful, not only on the outside but more importantly"—he placed a hand on his heart—"here. Never forget how proud your mother and I are of who you are. And never forget, the world is at your fingertips."

The crowd erupted into applause once more as Dad secured the necklace around her neck. He placed his hands on the sides of her face momentarily before picking up the plaque.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur.

When she strode into the cool evening air with her parents a couple hours later, Hollyn couldn't remember a word of what she'd said in her speech. Could only hope she'd made some kind of sense up on the stage. But the feel of the evening, the slightest breeze in the air—she never wanted to forget. Hollyn was happier than ever that it was February. She loved the chillier months here, even though they were still technically warm. But they were better than August, when she wanted to melt into the ground.

She fanned herself with her hand. The Grand Ballroom had been at capacity tonight, and the heat that came with so many bodies in one room was no joke.

The Royce pulled up and an attendant held open the door. She noticed Bongani wasn't driving. Instead, Isayus was behind the wheel. He was their secondary driver, but . . . strange to have them switch on the same night.

"Where's Bongani?" she asked, situating herself on the seat beside her parents.

Isayus's gaze lifted to the rearview mirror. "Started feeling ill and called for a replacement driver."

"Oh, I see."

"Poor thing," Mum cooed. "I do hope it's short-lived."

Hollyn's body swayed as Isayus started to pull away from the Etihad out onto the curved driveway toward the main road. Drained from the evening, Hollyn allowed herself to slump in her seat as she looked out the window.

Suddenly, Leila stepped off the curb, waving her hand. The headlights washed over her, and Isayus had to slam on the brakes to avoid an accident. Several people in the crowd around the outside of the building instinctively drew back in surprise.

"Oh!" Mum gasped as they lurched forward with the momentum.

Isayus made no attempt to hide his irritation as Hollyn's friend walked around the car and rapped on the window.

"Leila." Hollyn shook her head as she lowered the glass. "What're you trying to do? Get killed?"

"Aww, come on." Her model-esque friend flashed a teasing grin toward their driver. "You know Bongani wouldn't hit me. Oh, oops. Not Bongani." She shrugged. "I blame the tinted windows. Hello, Isayus." She jokingly winked.

Their driver murmured something under his breath.

Leila laughed, completely unfazed.

"Did you need something, sweetie?" Mum asked gently. "We're blocking traffic."

Hollyn looked out the back window. A line was forming behind their stopped car, unable to go around due to the candy-red Drako GTE parked next to them.

Leila's.

"I tried to catch you before you left," Leila said, her eyes bright with mischief. "I had a brilliant idea."

Oh no. Those were never good.

"I've come to whisk you away on a weekend ski trip. The Swiss Alps are calling!"

"What? Right now?"

"No time like the present, right? Archie's coming too, and some of the others."

By others, Leila could only mean her posse of equally extravagant friends. Hollyn was already conjuring a dozen reasons she couldn't go. "I can't. There's still a lot of work to do."

"You mean on the project you already finished and got recognized for tonight?"

Hollyn sighed. There was no denying she'd love to go. But she couldn't just leave spur of the moment. She was a planner. Last-minute things made her anxious. Plus, she could be getting a really solid jump on her next project.

"The lab will always be there," Dad unnecessarily pointed out. "And Switzerland is the most beautiful country, if I do say so myself."

Hollyn was aware. They'd vacationed in Dad's hometown several times over the years. But that wasn't the point. She tried to send him a look that conveyed she'd rather stay behind, but it only earned a grin from him.

"See? He gets it. Come on!" Leila looked at her for an answer.

Hollyn thought. No use saying she didn't have her passport with her. The tiny booklet was tucked away in her jeweled clutch. Dad had drilled it into her to carry the document at all times, and Leila knew it.

"You never know when you'll need to get out of the country quickly," he always told her.

"I don't have any extra clothes with me."

Leila put her perfectly manicured hands on her hips. Her smooth, dark-brown hair swished with each shake of her head. "What you don't have is a good excuse. Besides, that's what shopping is for. So . . . " She dragged out the word, one eyebrow arching. "You've been locked away in that lab for at least a year having no fun."

Hollyn heard Dad trying to suppress a laugh. She couldn't expect Leila to understand that the lab was fun for her. Her friend preferred partying in a new destination every night and racking up massive spa bills and shopping sprees, which her billion-dollar family trust paid for. Jetting off to tropical islands or snowcapped ski lodges on a whim was typical for her.

But she had made a good point. Hollyn hadn't taken a night off in . . . well, she'd just call it a long time.

Still . . .

"I don't know." She played with the necklace Dad had just given her, finger brushing the gold silhouette on the side.

"Go on, Sparrow," Dad said. "Your mother has been bugging me for a weekend in the Caribbean for years."

"Years?" Mum scoffed. "Try decades."

Their laughter was interrupted by the Mercedes behind them honking long and loud. Clearly fed up with the delay.

Leila threw up her hands at the driver. "Hey! She's making a decision, okay? Keep your pants on!" When she turned her attention back to Hollyn, her scowl was instantly replaced by a sweet smile. "I've got plenty of clothes waiting on the jet. You can change into something until we get to Switzerland."

"Yeah." Hollyn huffed a laugh. "You forget I've seen the kind of things you wear when you're not at a gala."

Their senses of style couldn't be more different. The one-shouldered, glitzy number was mild compared to the revealing outfits Leila normally donned.

Leila rolled her eyes. She swung the car door wide and practically yanked Hollyn out. "You can buy an I Love the Swiss Alps T-shirt to cover up, okay? Let's go." Leila shoved her toward the sports car, turning back last minute to wave at Hollyn's parents. "I'll take good care of her."

"We expect nothing less." Though Mum's voice was lighthearted, the undercurrent in her tone warned she was also serious.

"I love you guys," Hollyn called and waved as she was pushed toward her friend's sports car.

"Love you," her parents replied in unison.

Leila whipped her Drako in front of another car after Isayus pulled away. She sped onto Corniche Street in the midst of honking horns like it was the Indy 500.

This was going to be an adventure.

So why did Hollyn have a gnawing in the pit of her stomach?