Page 45 of Blurred Lines

"So," he says, sinking back beside me. "Want to listen to more stories about the oddity that my life has been?" There's a challenge in his tone.

"Only if you want to talk about it," I answer softly. "You don't have to."

He's silent for a long moment, then lets out a ragged breath. "There was this one woman …" he begins, his voice rough.

My hand finds his, offering silent support. His fingers lace with mine, the grip surprisingly tight. He talks, and with each story, with every painted bruise and unspoken fear, my respect for this guarded man deepens.

Hours bleed into the soft darkness, the movie long forgotten. Silas sleeps finally, his head coming to rest on my shoulder. The simple gesture fills me with warmth, but also a sharp stab of foreboding. I've spent a lifetime watching people leave, a lifetime guarding my heart. Yet now, watching Silas's chest rise and fall, a fierce protectiveness washes over me.

Fear wars with a strange sense of hope. Flora's words echo in my mind—sometimes, you have to wait out the storm. Just maybe, I wouldn't have to weather this storm alone, if only I was brave enough to try.

Am I?

Sunlight paints the room in soft gold as my phone's shrill ringing shatters the peaceful silence. My stomach drops as I recognize the agency's number. I glance at Silas, still sound asleep, his face relaxed for the first time since I've met him.

"Hello?" I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Emily, darling, it's Brenda." My agent's cheerful tone clashes with the heavy feeling in my chest. "We've got fantastic news! You're booked solid. Shows in New York, Paris, Milan. You'll be back on the runway before you know it! You need to get your ass back to New York immediately."

17

EMILY

Brenda's voice fades into meaningless chatter as a wave of conflicting emotions washes over me. Excitement. Dread. A longing that sits heavy in my chest. I glance at Silas and he's awake, his brows drawn together in concern.

"They've got shows in New York, Paris …" My voice falters. "But I just got here, and there's so much going on …"

His gaze softens, a warmth that seems to seep into my very bones. "What's wrong, little fox? Just spit it out."

"I want to stay," I admit, the words trembling a bit with the enormity of them. "I want to fix this mess, unravel Dad's secrets … and be with you guys. But … " I trail off, my modeling career flashing through my mind—catwalks, photoshoots, a world so far removed from muddy boots and tangled vines.

Silas leans in, his eyes steady on mine. "Okay," he says, the single word laced with quiet strength, "and what do you want?"

The question echoes, simple yet profound. "I want … I want it all," I confess. "But I know that's not realistic."

"Says who?" His lips quirk in a half-grin. "Why can't you have the best of both worlds?"

"Because …" I gesture helplessly. "This place is a disaster. Dad's letter, the vineyard, whatever else is lurking in the shadows. It isn't a simple job, Silas."

His eyes flicker around the room. "The trouble ends when we get to the bottom of it," he says with a shrug. "And that letter? Just another puzzle to solve. We can help, Emily. If you let us."

My heart does a strange little flutter. "We?"

"Me, Caeleb, Finn." He shrugs, but his eyes hold a fierce intensity. "We're invested now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

He's right. I did want their help, wanted their strength. And with a jolt, I realize how desperately I want them to stay. "Alright," I say, resolve settling into me. "But you guys better be prepared for a fight."

Silas reaches for his phone, a grin starting to stretch across his face. "First order of business? Reinforcements."

Minutes later, he's barking instructions at Caeleb and Finn, their voices buzzing back over the line. While he strategizes with the guys, I dial Flora, her bubbly voice a welcome contrast to the tension buzzing through the room.

"Em, what's up …" Flora begins, but I cut her off, explaining the situation in a breathless rush. A beat of silence follows.

"So," she breaks it. "You're not going back to New York just yet, right?"

"No," I reply quickly. "But I'm thinking it's time to get to work. You wanted to help with the treasure hunt, Flo. Are you still game?"

I don't know why, but the idea of doing this as one team suddenly has me feeling excited.

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