Chapter 98 The Enforcer's Secret
Samira hadn't changed. She still moved with a frantic, infectious energy that made the gloomy corners of the Winslow estate feel less like a gothic fortress and more like a home. After the initial chaos of her arrival, she had effectively kidnapped me, dragging me up to my bedroom under the guise of "helping me pick out a dinner outfit."
She shut the door with a click, her eyes immediately widening as she turned to face me. "Okay, spill. And don't give me the 'it just happened' speech I heard downstairs. This is Rhys. The man who has basically been the fourth Winslow brother since we were in braces."
I sank onto the edge of my bed, my heart doing a nervous little flutter. "It’s... it’s a lot to process, Sam. The timing was just right, I guess."
Samira let out a snort, throwing herself into the velvet armchair by the window. "Timing? Ellie, please. I’ve been waiting for this since the tenth-grade formal. You’re the only person in this entire county who didn't see the way he looked at you. It wasn't 'timing,' it was an inevitability."
I rolled my eyes, picking at a loose thread on my sweater. "Oh, please. Rhys didn't look at me 'any' way. He looked at me like an annoying shadow he was paid to watch. Half the time we were growing up, he was just teasing me or picking on me to make Jace laugh."
"He teased you because it was the only way he could get your undivided attention without Owen breathing down his neck," Samira countered, leaning forward. "Do you remember the junior bonfire? When Mark Sterling tried to ask you to the movies?"
I frowned, the memory hazy. "I remember Mark suddenly deciding he had a 'family emergency' and leaving early. I always figured Owen told him I wasn't allowed to date yet."
Samira laughed, a sharp, knowing sound. "Owen didn't even know Mark was there. I saw it, Ellie. I was standing by the cooler. Rhys didn't say a word to Owen. He just walked over to Mark, put an arm around his shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. Mark was white as a sheet when he ran for his car. That wasn't 'brotherly duty.' That was territorial marking."
"That's ridiculous," I said, though a strange warmth was blooming in my chest despite the fact that this entire engagement was supposed to be a ruse. "Rhys has always been the enforcer. He was just doing what my brothers wanted him to do. He was protecting the 'family honor' or whatever nonsense they believe in."
"Is that what you really think?" Samira asked, her voice softening. "Ellie, think about the sheer number of boys who ended up with 'mysterious' flat tires or 'accidental' collisions on the soccer field whenever they showed you the slightest bit of interest. You attributed it to Owen, Grant, and Jace because they were the loud ones, but it was always Rhys who was actually there, hovering in the background like a silent shadow."
"He was just being a good friend to them," I insisted, but my voice lacked conviction.
"A friend doesn't spend four hours sitting in a cold car outside a party just to make sure you get home safe without you knowing he's there," Samira said. "I caught him once, remember? Senior year? He made me swear I wouldn't tell you because he didn't want you to feel 'suffocated.' He didn't do that for Jace. He didn’t do that for Grant. He didn't do that for Owen. He did it for you."
I stood up, pacing the small space between my bed and the vanity. "He’s just always been there, Sam. That’s all it is. He’s part of the furniture. He’s Uncle Rhys to the kids, and he’s the guy who fixes the plumbing when the estate manager is away. It’s comfortable. It’s safe."
"Safe?" Samira stood up, walking over to grab my hands. "Look at your face, Ellie. You're glowing, and you're terrified. And I saw the way he held your hand downstairs. He wasn't performing for your brothers. He was holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that room."
She squeezed my fingers. "The boys he beat up back in school? They weren't 'threats to the family.' They were threats to him. He couldn't stand the idea of anyone else getting close to you. And now that he finally has you... God, I almost feel sorry for anyone who tries to come between you two now."
I looked at our reflection in the vanity mirror—Samira, bright and certain, and me, looking exactly like the confused girl she described. "It’s complicated, Sam. More than you know."
"Love usually is," she said with a shrug, heading toward the door. "Especially when it's been twenty years in the making. Now, put on something red. If you’re going to be the future Mrs. Rhys, you might as well look the part of the woman who finally broke the most stubborn man in the state."
I caught her sleeve before she could turn the handle. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might bruise my ribs. "Sam, wait. There’s something else. It’s... it’s not just a decision we made over coffee."
Samira froze, her eyebrows shooting up. "Go on."
"We’ve... we’ve been together. Three times already," I whispered, the heat rising to my cheeks. "The physical part, it’s like a fuse blew. But the second time, afterwards, he was so quiet. He looked at me and told me he’d always loved me. That it was never about the brothers or a promise to Owen. He said it was always me."
Samira’s mouth fell open, her energetic snark completely vanished. "He actually said the words?"
"He did," I admitted, my voice trembling. "And I want to believe him. I really do. But there’s this voice in the back of my head asking if he’s just saying it to make this arrangement work, or if he’s just so used to protecting me that he’s confused it for something else. I have these doubts that I’m just the girl next door he was tasked to guard."
Samira shook her head firmly, her eyes fierce. "Ellie, men like Rhys don't lie about that kind of thing. Especially not when they're vulnerable. If he said it after being with you like that, he meant it with every fiber of his being. You aren't a task to him. You're his world. You’re just the last person to realize you’re the sun he’s been orbiting for two decades."
As she finally slipped out of the room, her laughter echoing in the hall, I stayed frozen. Was it possible? Had I spent a lifetime misinterpreting his protectiveness as a chore he did for my brothers, when it was actually a choice he made for himself? If Samira was right, then this "fake" engagement wasn't a new lie—it was the first time Rhys was finally allowed to tell the truth.