Chapter 99 The Arrival
Samira was a whirlwind of silk and perfume, insisting that if we were going to survive a dinner with the combined weight of the Winslow and Vance brotherhoods, we had to look "impenetrable." I took her advice to heart, though I steered clear of anything too theatrical. I settled on a deep crimson midi dress—not quite the "look-at-me" red Samira had championed, but a sophisticated garnet that felt like a quiet declaration of war.
As I brushed my hair, I looked at the reflection of the woman in the mirror. She looked like a Winslow, yes, but there was a new sharpness in her eyes that belonged to someone who had finally crossed a line she could never un-cross.
"The Vance clan has landed," Samira announced, peering out the window as the gravel crunched below.
The Winslow estate, usually a cavernous museum of hushed tones, suddenly erupted with the chaotic energy of children. Aaron, Rhys’s eldest brother, was the first through the door with Chloe, his wife, who looked remarkably composed for a woman wrangling nine-year-old Garrett and seven-year-old Skylar. Elias followed close behind with Simone, their five-year-old Lucian already trying to climb the bannister while three-year-old Nell clung to Simone’s hip.
When I reached the top of the grand staircase, the foyer was a sea of broad shoulders and expensive wool. My brothers—Owen, Jace, and Grant—stood like a firing squad near the fireplace. The arrival of Aaron and Elias seemed to double the "Protective Brothers Club" in size, creating a wall of masculine intensity that would have intimidated a seasoned diplomat.
Cassandra didn't wait for a formal announcement. She hurried out of the drawing room with her arms already open, a bright, genuine smile breaking through her usual polished exterior. "Oh, finally! I thought I heard a stampede," she laughed, bypassing the men entirely to scoop Skylar into a hug. She pressed a kiss to Aaron’s cheek as he leaned down. "Aaron, you’ve grown even broader. Are you trying to out-muscle your brothers or just trying to keep up with these two?"
Arthur followed behind her, having already ditched his suit jacket. He looked less like the master of the house and more like a grandfather ready for a headache. He let out a hearty laugh as Garrett nearly tripped him. "Careful there, son! If you break that vase, your father has to pay for it, and I know how much Aaron hates spending money on decor." He stepped forward and pulled Elias into a brief, one-armed hug, clapping him on the back. "Good to have you back, Elias. The wine is already open, and God knows we’re going to need it."
Meanwhile, Helena was already in the thick of it. She hadn't waited for a greeting; she was busy being a grandmother. She had Lucian in one arm and was smoothing Skylar’s hair with her free hand, her face glowing with a pride that didn't quite hide the tactical glimmer in her eyes. Helena had always been a mother to all of us, but tonight, she looked at Rhys with a fierce, protective brand of love that made my throat tight.
"Look at you all," Helena beamed, pulling Simone and Chloe into a half-embrace. "You look exhausted. Give the children to me for a moment. Rhys, don't just stand there like a statue. Help your brothers with the bags, or at least pretend you remember how to be a host."
Rhys was standing near the center of the room, looking uncharacteristically stiff. When he saw me, his expression softened just enough for his brothers to notice. Aaron exchanged a knowing look with Elias, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips. They didn't look angry; they looked like men who had finally won a very long, very expensive bet.
The same couldn't be said for my family. Owen’s jaw was set so tightly I feared for his teeth. To him, this wasn't just a surprise; it was a breach of the highest order. Rhys was his best friend, his right hand, and the man he had trusted to keep me at arm's length.
"Good to see you, Ellie," Aaron said, stepping forward to offer a warm hug that felt genuinely welcoming. "You look beautiful. Red suits you—and the occasion."
"Doesn't it just?" Samira chimed in, gliding down the stairs behind me like a bodyguard in sequins. She shot a pointed look at Owen. "It’s the color of passion, or warning, depending on which brother you’re currently trying to avoid being strangled by."
"Samira, enough," Chloe said with a gentle but firm laugh, stepping in to intercept. She gave my hand a supportive squeeze. "Ignore the men. They’ve been puffing their chests out since the driveway. Simone and I have already decided that any talk of 'betrayal' or 'honor' results in a week of sleeping on the sofa."
Simone nodded in agreement, shifting Nell to her other hip. "We’ve known Rhys was gone for you since he was twelve, Ellie. We’re just glad he finally grew a spine."
Helena moved toward the center of the foyer, her gaze sweeping over the Winslow brothers. "Owen, Jace, Grant—stop looking like you’re about to perform an exorcism. You’ve known the Vances your whole lives. If you have something to say to my son, say it after we’ve had a decent meal. Until then, you will be gentlemen."
Owen made a low, rumbling sound in his throat. "It’s not about his spine, Simone. It’s about the fact that he’s been lying to our faces for years."
"Oh, shut up, Owen," Samira snapped, adjusting her earring. "He didn't lie. He survived you. There's a difference."
Arthur placed a calming hand on Owen’s shoulder, a silent command for restraint. "Let’s move this to the dining room. The kids are already raiding the kitchen, and I suspect the adults are about ten minutes away from a full-scale debate."
The tension was thick enough to choke on as we moved toward the dining room. The Vance brothers seemed content to watch the show, their eyes dancing with amusement, while my own brothers marched toward the table like they were heading into a deposition. Rhys caught my hand as we entered, his thumb grazing my knuckles in that secret, grounding way that made my heart ache. The wives were already forming a united front, but as the heavy oak doors closed behind us, I knew that even their combined strength might not be enough to keep the peace once the wine started flowing.