Page 77 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“Both,” Phoenix said. “Bellerose has always been about control. If he’s calling his daughter home, it’s because he’s losing some of it.”
I nodded slowly. “She won’t come back. She said she’s done with this place.”
He gave a small, humorless smile. “Yeah, I said that once too, when I started travelling, but the minute my family needed me, I was back here in a heartbeat and never left.” I rested my head on his shoulder, staring at the soft glow from Braden’s monitor.
“You’re a good man, Phoenix Thorne.”
The orchard lights flickered through the window, steady and familiar. For a moment, everything was still and it almost felt peaceful.
Then Phoenix’s phone buzzed again.
Becket:Two unknowns spotted near Route 12. Plates have Montreal addresses. Passing word to patrol.
Phoenix typed back a curt acknowledgment and set the phone face down.
“You sure you want to be here through this?” he asked me.
I didn’t hesitate. “This is my home now.”
He nodded once and kissed my temple, then whispered, “Then I’ll make damn sure it stays safe.”
We sat in silence, listening to the night stretch long around us. Braden sighed again, half-asleep, half-dreaming. I thought of Harmony alone in her Montreal apartment, lights on, curtains drawn, pretending she wasn’t afraid.
She’d once told me, some people are born into storms, but that doesn’t mean they have to live in them forever. I just hoped she believed that now. Because whatever was coming, whatever shadows were creeping from Montreal to Val-Du-Lys, wasn’t done with any of us yet.
CHAPTER 34
Phoenix
I stayed in the loft with Elyna and Braden who was fast asleep , until her shoulders dropped against me, and the lines of tension in her face softened. When she finally drifted off, I eased my arm from under her and laid her gently on the futon, tucking the throw over her.
For a long minute I just stood there, staring at the soft rise and fall of her chest, the faint glow from the baby monitor, the orchard lights blinking through the window like beacons. My phone was still warm in my hand from Becket’s last text.
Two unknowns from Montreal.
The cold, quiet part of me, the one I’d spent years pretending I didn’t have was awake now. I slipped down the stairs and walked straight over to the brewery, the smell of hops and malt grounding me. Dominic had already left, the lights dimmed. I ducked into my office, shut the door, and called my father.
He answered on the second ring. “You with Elyna?”
“She’s at the loft. Braden’s asleep. I’m at the brewery in my office.” My voice was low, steady. “Harmony called Elyna tonight and told her about some men outside her building in Montreal, asking questions about Marcel.”
A beat of silence on the line was followed by Dad’s voice, his tone hard as stone. “Becket told me. They’re looking for leverage.”
“Or a weak link.” I leaned against the desk, eyes on the security feeds. “They’ve got two cars near Route 12. Becket’s got patrol eyes on them.”
“They’re sniffing,” Dad said. “Testing. They’ll keep pushing until they think they’ve found a crack.”
“Not here.”
“No,” he agreed. “We won’t let them near her.”
A pause.
I heard him blow out a slow breath. “Bellerose called his daughter?”
“Apparently, it was the first time in years. He told her to come home and she refused.”
“That’s smart,” Dad muttered. “Marcel’s got his own mess. If they’re circling him, they’ll circle her too. She’s safer in the city with distance than she is walking back into his shadow.”
