But finally, slowly, they both nodded.
And I was left standing by the pool—barefoot, exhausted, and more alone than I’d been in weeks.
The worst part?
A piece of me still didn’t know who I wanted to follow when they walked away.
Silas hesitated.
He didn’t walk away—not right away. He just stood there, shoulders tight, hand fisted around the shattered remains of the tracker.
“I really need to talk to you,” he said, voice rough. “Not just about this. About everything. And if Monte didn’t plant that?—”
He glanced at the dark hedges, where Monte had already disappeared into the shadows again, silent and steady, as always.
“Then we might have a much bigger problem.”
My stomach dropped.
“What kind of problem?”
His gaze met mine, and something in it sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t fear exactly. But it was close.
“I’ll explain everything. I just …” He took a breath. “Let’s go to your suite, okay? I’ll meet you there in five minutes. I need to check something.”
“I—Silas?—”
But he was already moving, fast and quiet, disappearing through the far gate with a speed that said he wasn’t just a man. He was a weapon. One that had just scented something in the air.
Something dangerous.
I stood there for a long time after he left, listening to the wind through the magnolias, the ripple of the pool, the echo of my pulse in my ears.
And then a sound broke through the silence behind me.
Not footsteps.
Not voices.
Just one, single noise.
A click.
From somewhere I couldn’t see.
My breath caught.
And then the pool lights flickered.
Once. Twice.
Then went dark.
24
SILAS
My plan was simple: find Monte, hash it out, man to man. No fists this time, just words, sharp and honest, to clear the air about Portia, about that tracker in her shoe, about whatever game he was playing with her heart.
