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Short filmTranscript
00:00$72. That's exactly how short I am on rent. And my landlord, a man who smells like stale cigars
00:08and disappointment, has made it very clear that he's done waiting. The Miami sun is relentless
00:16today, a white-hot spotlight that bleaches the color out of South Beach and makes the pavement
00:21shimmer with heat. I pull my sunglasses down, scanning the lunch crowd at Le Jardin. It's a
00:28pretentious little bistro where a salad costs more than my weekly grocery budget, which makes it the
00:34perfect hunting ground. I don't want to be doing this. I want to be anywhere else, preferably
00:40somewhere with air conditioning and a moral high ground, but desperate times call for flexible
00:46ethics. Then I see him. He's an anomaly. While every other guy here is wearing linen shorts and boat
00:55shoes, this guy is encased in a charcoal suit that looks tailored to within an inch of its life.
01:01He's sitting alone at a corner table, nursing an espresso like it's a weapon. He's gorgeous in a
01:08way that sets off primitive alarm bells in my brain, sharp jaw, dark hair swept back, and an air of
01:15stillness that feels unnatural in this chaotic city. He looks rich. He looks distracted. He looks like
01:23my solution. I take a breath, inhaling the scent of roasted coffee and exhaust fumes, and start my walk.
01:31The plan is the bump and apologize. It's clumsy, but I'm small, and I can play the frantic clumsy
01:37girl card well enough to mask a two-finger dip into a jacket pocket. I weave through the tables,
01:43timing my pace. He's looking at his phone, a heavy gold watch glinting on his wrist. Perfect.
01:49Perfect. I accelerate, feigning a stumble over a loose paver. Oh crap, I gasp, lurching forward.
01:57I collide with his shoulder, hard enough to register, soft enough to be an accident. My left
02:02hand stabilizes me on the table. My right hand slides seamlessly toward the inside of his blazer.
02:08I feel the leather of the wallet. I have it. It's right there. Then the world stops. My wrist is
02:16caught in a grip that feels less like a human hand and more like a steel vice. It happens so fast,
02:23my brain can't even process the movement. One second I'm lifting. The next, my hand is frozen
02:29mid-air, inches from his chest. I look up, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
02:36The man hasn't spilled a drop of his espresso. He slowly lowers his phone, turning his head to look
02:43at me. Up close, his eyes are a startling, predatory blue, rimmed with dark lashes that
02:49don't soften the intensity of his stare. He doesn't look angry. He looks bored.
02:56You have terrible form, he says. His voice is a low rumble, smooth and American, but with a cadence
03:03that suggests he chooses his words very carefully. I try to yank my hand back. It's like trying to pull
03:10away from a statue. I tripped, I lie, though the tremor in my voice betrays me. Let go.
03:18You didn't trip, he counters, his thumb pressing into the pulse point of my wrist,
03:24reading the spike in my heart rate. You saw a man in a suit, assumed he was an easy mark,
03:30and decided to subsidize your day. Am I close? I open my mouth to argue, but the heat of the day
03:36feels suddenly suffocating. People are eating their kale salads three feet away, completely oblivious
03:43that I'm being held captive by a man who looks like he could buy the block and burn it down for fun.
03:49Please, I whisper, the sarcasm draining out of me, replaced by raw panic. Just let me go. I won't come
03:57back. He studies my face, his gaze dropping to my frayed sneakers, then back up to my eyes. He sees
04:05the exhaust in there, the hunger I've been trying to hide. The cruelty in his eyes softens, just a
04:11fraction, replaced with something calculating. He releases my wrist, but he doesn't gesture for me
04:18to leave. He points to the empty wrought iron chair opposite him. Sit, he commands. It's not an
04:25offer. I blank, rubbing my aching wrist. What? Sit down, he repeats, picking up his espresso cup.
04:33You look like you haven't eaten a solid meal in three days, and frankly, you're bad for business
04:38standing there looking like a cornered animal. Order lunch. I'm not. If you run, he cuts me off,
04:46his voice silky and dangerous, I hand you over to the two police officers standing on the corner of
04:52Fifth and Ocean. If you sit, you get a steak. Choose. I look at the cops down the street. I look
04:59at the man in the charcoal suit, waiting with terrifying patience. I pull out the chair and sit.
05:05The leather seat of the Aston Martin is softer than my mattress, which says a lot about my life
05:11choices and even more about his bank account. We're tearing down the Pacific Coast Highway,
05:16the ocean on our right, glittering like a spilled bag of diamonds under the midday sun. It's blindingly
05:23bright, aggressive California sunshine that offers no shadows to hide in. You're vibrating,
05:30Silas says. He doesn't look at me. His hands are loose on the wheel, gold watch catching the light,
05:36his profile cut from granite and arrogance. Relax. If I was going to kill you, I wouldn't do it in a car
05:43that costs 300 grand. Bloodstains are a nightmare on beige leather. I wasn't worried about the leather,
05:50I snap, though my voice lacks the punch I want it to have. I'm clutching my knees, staring at the
05:55speedometer. Where are we going? Home, he says simply. Home turns out to be a fortress of white
06:02stone perched on a cliff edge, surrounded by iron gates that scream, keep out or die. As the gates
06:10swing open, revealing a driveway lined with palm trees that look like they get weekly manicures,
06:15the reality of my situation sinks in. I didn't just try to pickpocket a rich guy, I tried to rob
06:22a king. He parks in front of a sprawling fountain. The water arcs high into the blue sky, shimmering.
06:29Silas kills the engine and turns to me. The silence in the car is heavy, charged with static.
06:35Get out, Maya. I follow him. The air smells like salt and expensive landscaping,
06:42jasmine and money. He leads me not inside, but around to a sun-drenched terrace overlooking the
06:48ocean. It's breathtaking and terrifying. Sit, he commands, pointing to a wrought iron chair.
06:55I sit. He leans against the stone railing, blocking the sun, casting a long shadow over me.
07:01He pulls a silver cigarette case from his jacket, the movement smooth, practiced.
07:07Do you know who I am? He asks, lighting up. The smoke curls into the clear air.
07:13Rich, I offer. Arrogant. Someone who clearly doesn't check his coat pockets enough.
07:18A ghost of a smile touches his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes.
07:22My name is Silas Vane. That might not mean much to a girl who lives out of a backpack,
07:27but in this city, it means I own the ground you walk on. The ports, the unions, the concrete.
07:35It's all vain family business. My stomach drops. Mafia. Not the movie kind with pasta and bad accents,
07:43but the real, corporate, terrifying kind that makes people disappear in broad daylight.
07:49So, I manage, trying to keep my chin up. You're a Don. Congrats. Are you going to call the cops,
07:55or do you handle your own pest control? Silas flicks ash over the railing. I value boldness,
08:02Maya. Stupidity, less so. But boldness is a currency I understand. You have nimble fingers
08:08and a lying face. I have a use for that. He pushes off the railing and steps into my personal space.
08:15The heat coming off him is palpable. My associates, the old guard, are restless.
08:20They think a man in my position needs a wife to stabilize his empire. They are parading
08:26Harris's in front of me like prize cattle. It's distracting. I need it to stop. I stare at him,
08:33the pieces clicking together with a horrifying snap. You're joking.
08:38I never joke about business, Silas says, his voice dropping an octave, smooth as velvet,
08:44and just as suffocating. You owe me for the attempted theft. The penalty for stealing from a vein
08:50is usually a broken hand. He glances at my fingers. But I am feeling generous. He leans down,
08:57bracing his hands on the arms of my chair, trapping me. His cologne, wood smoke, and citrus
09:03floods my senses. Option A, I hand you over to my security team, and you learn a very painful lesson
09:10about property rights. Option B, you wear my ring. You smile at my dinners. You play the part of the
09:17woman who captured the heart of the untouchable Silas vein until the heat dies down. You get a roof,
09:24clothes, and protection. I get peace and quiet. He tilts his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine,
09:31predator assessing prey. So, Maya, what's it going to be? The hospital or the golden cage?
09:38The California sun beats down on the pavement of Rodeo Drive with a manic, unrelenting cheerfulness
09:45that makes my hangover from sheer panic throb behind my eyes. It's barely noon, and the light
09:51reflects off the polished chrome of parked Ferraris and the pristine glass of storefronts,
09:57turning the entire street into a blinding corridor of wealth I have no business walking through.
10:03You look like you're marching to an execution, Roxy, Silas says, his voice a low, smooth rumble
10:10that cuts through the street noise. He's walking a half-step behind me, close enough that I can smell
10:16the sandalwood and expensive tobacco clinging to his suit, far enough that he feels like a predator
10:22stalking a particularly slow gazelle. Buying a dress shouldn't require a credit limit higher than the
10:29GDP of a small country, I shoot back, shielding my eyes with a hand. And for the record, I preferred
10:35my hoodie. It had pockets. Useful for… acquisition. Pickpocketing, he corrects dryly. He stops in front of
10:44a boutique that looks more like an art gallery than a clothing store. And, considering I caught you with
10:50your hand in my jacket two days ago, I'd say your hoodie didn't help much. Inside. It's not a request.
10:57It never is with Silas. The air conditioning inside hits me like a wall of ice. A sales associate with
11:04a smile sharp enough to cut glass descends on us, but Silas dismisses her with a single bored flick
11:11of his fingers. He steers me toward a rack of silk and chiffon. We need convincing, he murmurs,
11:18pulling out a slip dress the color of spilled wine. He holds it against me, his knuckles grazing my
11:24collarbone. The contact sends a jolt of static straight down my spine. You need to look like
11:30you belong on my arm, not like you're trying to lift my watch. I could do both, I mutter, grabbing
11:37the hanger. Why are we doing this, Silas? You said I had a debt to work off. I didn't think that
11:44involved playing dress-up. Everything involves playing a part. His eyes, dark and unreadable,
11:50scan my face. For a second, the sarcasm drops, and there's that intensity again, the kind
11:57that makes the air in the room feel thin. Go, put it on, and don't hide in the dressing
12:02room. Ten minutes later, I step out. The silk clings to every curve, feeling dangerously
12:09like water against my skin. It's backless, exposing scars I usually keep covered, and the
12:15slit rides high up my thigh. I feel naked, expensive, and terrified. Silas is leaning
12:22against a display case of diamond chokers, checking his phone. He looks up. His gaze starts at my heels
12:29and drags slowly, deliberately, up to my eyes. It's a physical weight. He doesn't smile. He just nods,
12:36a muscle feathering in his jaw. Adequate, he says, though his eyes are darker than before.
12:43High praise, I deadpan, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. Can I change back into my rags
12:50now, your highness? Keep it on. We're leaving. He pays without looking at the total. When we step back
12:57out into the aggressive midday glare, the heat feels heavier. Silas shifts. His hand slides onto the
13:04small of my back, warm, firm, possessive. It feels intimate, almost tender, until I notice the tension
13:11in his grip. His fingers dig into the silk just slightly. Smile, he whispers, his lips brushing my
13:19ear. You haven't said anything funny. Try, Roxy. Your life depends on it. My stomach drops. I let out a
13:27forced, breathy laugh, tilting my head back to look at him. What is going on? I hiss through a wide,
13:34fake smile. Across the street, he murmurs, leaning in like he's whispering a romantic secret.
13:40Silver sedan, three o'clock. Don't look directly at it. I catch the reflection in the shop window
13:47we're passing. A silver car, idling. A silhouette in the driver's seat. Who are they? Consequences,
13:54Silas says, his voice devoid of fear, replaced by a cold, calculating edge. He pulls me tighter
14:01against his side, turning my body so I'm effectively a human shield between him and the street,
14:07or maybe, I realize with a sickening lurch, he's putting me on display, making sure they see me
14:13with him. You're using me as bait, I realize, the words tasting like ash. Silas looks down at me,
14:21the sunlight catching the cruel, beautiful angles of his face. He doesn't deny it.
14:26I'm giving you a new life, remember? In my world, darling, everyone is a target. You just happen to
14:34be the prettiest one on the board today. The leather seat swallows me whole, smelling like
14:39sandalwood and the kind of money that doesn't scream, but whispers terrifying things. We're
14:46cruising at 40,000 feet, the world below nothing but a patchwork quilt of browns and greens,
14:51while the sun floods the cabin in an aggressive, blinding gold. Silas sits across from me,
14:58looking irritatingly composed. He's ignored his scotch for the last 20 minutes, his attention
15:04fixed on a tablet resting on his knee. He's wearing a charcoal suit, no tie, top button undone,
15:11a calculated casualness that makes him look less like a CEO and more like a predator taking a day off.
15:18You're staring, he says, not looking up. His voice is a low rumble that vibrates through the soles of
15:25my beat-up sneakers. I'm observing, I correct, crossing my legs and trying to pretend I belong
15:32on a Gulfstream jet and not on a Greyhound bus. There's a difference. I'm trying to figure out if
15:38you're actually reading that report or just waiting for me to try and swipe your watch.
15:43Silas finally looks up. His eyes are dark, heavy with a kind of exhaustion that sleep doesn't fix.
15:50A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. You wouldn't get close enough, Cleo. We established
15:55that in the alley. I tripped. I lie smoothly. Tactical error. He huffs a laugh, setting the tablet
16:02aside. He turns toward the window, watching the sea of clouds. The stark daylight cuts across his face,
16:09highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw and the faint scar running through his left eyebrow.
16:15In this light, stripped of the shadows of the city, he looks less like the dawn everyone whispers about
16:21and more like a man carrying the weight of an empire he didn't ask for.
16:26It's the only place it's quiet, he murmurs, almost to himself. The sky. The altitude, he clarifies,
16:33turning his gaze back to me. It's intense, searing. Down there, everyone wants something. A favor,
16:40a cut, a pardon, a death. Up here, the phone doesn't ring unless the world is ending. It's
16:47simple. Lonely, I offer. The words slipping out before I can check it. Silas pauses, his fingers
16:54drumming a silent rhythm on the armrest. Leadership is isolation disguised as power. You stand at the top
17:02of the mountain, but the air is too thin for anyone else to breathe. He leans forward, resting his
17:07elbows on his knees, closing the distance between us. The air in the cabin suddenly feels thick,
17:14charged with static. And you? What are you running from that makes you try to pick the pocket of a
17:20man followed by three bodyguards? I'm not running, I say, though my pulse jumps in my throat.
17:26I'm surviving. Is that what you call it? His voice drops, softer now. He reaches out,
17:33not to grab me, but to brush a stray lock of hair from my face. His fingers are warm,
17:39rough against my skin. It's a startlingly gentle gesture from a man known for breaking bones.
17:45For a second, the sarcasm dies in my throat. I see the man behind the monster,
17:51someone looking for an equal, not a subordinate. I lean into his touch, just a fraction. The danger
17:58feels distant, theoretical. Bzzzt. The vibration against my thigh shatters the moment like a gunshot.
18:05I jerk back, the spell broken. Silas withdraws his hand, his eyes instantly hardening,
18:11the walls slamming back up. I fumble for my phone, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
18:17I look down at the screen. The brightness is turned up, and the message glows in hideous white
18:23letters against a black background. Unknown number. Nice flight. Hope the view is worth the 50k you owe
18:30us. You land in three hours. We'll be waiting. My blood turns to ice. The daylight flooding the cabin
18:37suddenly feels cold, exposing me. I look up at Silas, who is watching me with renewed calculation.
18:44He thinks he saved me from the streets, but he has no idea he just flew me into a trap.
18:51I'm not safe here. I'm just a target at a higher altitude. The Florida sun is aggressive today,
18:58bouncing off the white hulls of the yachts in the marina with a glare that feels personal.
19:03We're sitting at a table that probably costs a grand just to reserve, surrounded by people who speak
19:09in investments and offshore accounts. Silas sits across from me, looking unfairly comfortable,
19:16in a slate gray suit that absorbs the heat rather than reflecting it. He's wearing sunglasses,
19:22hiding those calculating eyes, but I can feel them tracking the movement of my fork as I push a glorified
19:29scallop around my plate. Stop playing with your food, Lena, he says. His voice is low, a smooth
19:36baritone that barely carries over the clink of silverware, yet it commands attention. It makes
19:42you look nervous. I am nervous. I shoot back, stabbing the scallop. There are three guys by the
19:48bar who look like they want to murder you, and you're worried about my table manners?
19:53Silas doesn't even turn his head. He takes a slow sip of his espresso. Four guys, and they won't try
19:59anything here. Too many witnesses. Too much sunlight. He reaches across the pristine white tablecloth,
20:06his fingers brushing against my wrist. The contact sends a jolt straight up my arm, sharp and electric.
20:13Relax. You're with me. That's usually when the trouble starts, I mutter, though I don't pull my
20:19hand away. Touché. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. Go freshen up. You look like you're
20:26about to bolt. I am about to bolt. I'm always about to bolt. It's a survival reflex I haven't
20:32been able to shake since he caught me with my hand in his pocket three weeks ago. Instead of running,
20:38I stand up, smoothing down the sundress he bought me. Silk, expensive, and feeling like a costume.
20:45Don't miss me too much, I quip, turning toward the restaurant's interior. The path to the restrooms
20:50is an open-air corridor, lined with palm trees and stucco pillars. The shade provides a momentary
20:56relief from the oppressive brightness. I turn the corner, exhaling a breath I didn't know I was
21:02holding, when a hand shoots out from an alcove and clamps over my bicep. I'm yanked sideways,
21:08pinned against the rough stucco wall before I can scream. Quiet, a voice hisses. I blink,
21:14my eyes adjusting to the shadows. It's the guy from the bar, the fourth one Silas mentioned.
21:20Heavy cologne, expensive watch, dead eyes. But then I look closer, and my stomach drops through
21:27the floor. Dante? I whisper, the blood draining from my face. So you do remember, Dante sneers,
21:35his grip tightening. He's not just a rival, he's a ghost from a life I buried. Vegas,
21:41two years ago. You took a bracelet off my wrist while I was buying you a drink. I never forget
21:48a pretty little thief. I don't have it anymore, I stammer, my heart hammering against my ribs like
21:54a trapped bird. I don't have anything. I don't want the bracelet, Lena, he says, leaning in close.
22:02He smells like spearmint and malice. He reaches into his pocket and presses something cold and
22:08metallic into my palm. It's tiny. A listening device. Plant this on him. In his jacket, his car,
22:15I don't care. Just get it done. No, I say, though my voice shakes. He'll kill me. Dante smiles,
22:23and it's a terrifying thing to see in the bright, happy daylight of the marina. If you don't,
22:29I'll walk over there right now and tell the Don exactly who you are. I'll tell him about the cartel
22:36debt you're running from. I'll tell him you're not a charity case. You're a liability. He releases me,
22:42stepping back into the dappled sunlight. You have until dessert. Make the right choice, thief. He
22:49walks away, leaving me trembling in the shade. I look down at the silver bug in my hand, then close my
22:55fist around it tight enough to hurt. I force a breath into my lungs, paste a smile on my face,
23:01and walk back out into the blinding sun. Silas is waiting, and I have to choose between the monster
23:07who knows my past and the monster who owns my future. The sun is blinding up here. It bounces
23:15off the chrome and glass of Silas's penthouse terrace, turning the whole world into a white-hot
23:21interrogation room. I'm sweating, and it's not just the sudden heat wave baking the city.
23:26My hand hovers over the pocket of my jeans, feeling for the phantom weight of the tracker
23:31I was supposed to plant. I flushed it down the powder room toilet five minutes ago, but the guilt
23:37is still heavy enough to sink me. I need to tell him. I need to come clean before this fake life he's
23:44given me—the clothes, the safety, the way he looks at me like I'm a riddle he actually wants to solve—turns
23:50into a prison cell. Enjoying the view, Tessa? His voice is smooth, like expensive bourbon over ice,
23:58but the ice is sharp. I spin around, heart jumping into my throat. Silas is leaning against the sliding
24:05glass door, looking devastatingly crisp in a charcoal suit that costs more than my entire student loan
24:11debt. He's wearing aviators, hiding those predatory eyes, but I know they're locked on me.
24:17He looks calm. Too calm. I was just thinking. I manage, my voice sounding thinner than the air up
24:25here. We need to talk. Actually, I need to talk. We do. He pushes off the wall, walking toward me
24:33with that slow, panther-like grace that usually makes my knees weak. Today, it makes my stomach
24:39turn over. He stops a foot away, blocking out the sun. He reaches into his jacket pocket. About this?
24:46He holds up a small black listening device. My blood runs cold. It's not the one I flushed. It's a
24:53second one. The insurance policy, the rival family, must have slipped into my bag without me knowing.
25:00Silas, I… save the creative writing exercise. He steps closer, forcing me back until my hips hit the
25:07glass railing. The city sprawls dizzily below us, a grid of concrete and shimmering heat. He tosses the
25:14bug in the air and catches it with a snap. You walked into my house, ate my food, slept in my
25:20sheets, and all the while you were carrying a wire for the Russos? I didn't turn it on, I argue,
25:27panic spiking my adrenaline. I destroyed the other one. They threatened my sister, Silas. I was trapped.
25:34Everyone has a sob story, Tessa. In my world, we call them liabilities. He looms over me,
25:41removing his sunglasses. His eyes are dark, furious, but there's something else there.
25:47Disappointment. It cuts deeper than his anger. He slams his hand against the glass next to my head,
25:53boxing me in. I protect what's mine, but I don't harbor rats. I am not a rat, I hiss,
26:01refusing to cower even though he looks ready to throw me off the ledge. I was coming out here to
26:07tell you everything. I chose you. Did you? His voice drops to a lethal growl. His face
26:14inches from mine. I can smell his cologne, sandalwood, sea salt, and danger. I want to grab
26:21his lapels and shake him, tell him I'm terrified of losing him, not the security. Before I can scream
26:28at him, a low, concussive thud vibrates through the floor beneath our feet. Silas stiffens,
26:34his head snapping to the side. We both look past the railing. Three blocks down,
26:40a massive plume of black smoke is billowing into the bright blue sky from one of his luxury car
26:45dealerships. A siren wails, cutting through the midday traffic noise. They didn't wait for the
26:51signal, he curses, his jaw ticking. He looks back at me. For a split second, I think he's gonna leave
26:58me here. The betrayal is still etched into the hard lines of his face. But then his eyes shift,
27:05scanning the rooftops of the high-rise opposite us. He spots a glint of metal in the distance,
27:11a scope reflecting the harsh sunlight. Get down! He doesn't hesitate. Silas throws his body over mine,
27:18tackling me to the composite decking, just as the glass railing where my head was a second ago
27:23explodes. Crack! Shards of safety glass rain down on his suit jacket like diamonds.
27:30He covers me completely, a heavy, solid shield of muscle and expensive fabric,
27:35crushing me against the floorboards. Stay down, he growls into my ear, his hand cupping the back of
27:41my head, pressing my face into his chest. He hates me right now. I can feel the tension radiating off him
27:48like heat from a furnace. But he's still taking the line of fire for me. The glare off the Pacific
27:54is relentless, turning the ocean into a sheet of hammered gold. It matches the watch on Silas's
28:00wrist as he taps a thick manila envelope against the glass table. We're ten stories up, the air
28:07smelling of jasmine and expensive sunscreen. The chaos of the last few days, the rival cruise,
28:13the almost kidnapping. The way Silas dismantled an entire crime syndicate without seemingly
28:19wrinkling his pale gray linen suit feels like a fever dream. It's all there, Cleo, Silas says.
28:27His voice is that low, smooth rumble that usually precedes a command, but today it sounds strangely
28:33hollow. Identity is scrubbed, new passport, an account with enough zeros to keep you in vintage
28:40boots and bad decisions for the rest of your life. I look at the envelope. Then I look at him. He's
28:46leaning against the railing, sunglasses hiding those predatory eyes, looking like he owns the
28:52skyline. Which, technically, he does. And the ticket, I ask, nodding to the boarding pass peeking
28:59out of the flap. One way, Zurich. Plane leaves in two hours. He takes a sip of his espresso, completely
29:05unbothered. Or acting like it. You tried to pick a pocket and ended up in a war zone. The war is over.
29:12You survive. You get paid. That was the deal. I reach out and pick up the envelope. It feels heavy.
29:19It feels like safety. It feels like the ordinary life I thought I was desperate for when I bumped into
29:26him outside that charity gala three weeks ago. So that's it? I ask, tracing the edge of the paper.
29:32I take the money, get on the bird, and we pretend I didn't save your life yesterday?
29:38You shouted, duck, and threw a martini glass at a hitman, he corrects dryly, a tiny smirk touching
29:44the corner of his mouth. But yes, consider the debt paid in full. The wind whips a strand of
29:50hair across my face. I stand up, clutching the envelope. This is the smart play. Run. Go find a nice
29:58accountant named Greg. Live in a place where people don't have security details for their
30:02brunch reservations. I walk over to the railing, standing next to him. I can feel the heat radiating
30:09off his suit jacket. He doesn't look at me. He's staring at the horizon. His jaw sets so tight a muscle
30:15ticks in his cheek. That's the tell. The only one he ever has. Zurich is cold, I say. It's clean,
30:23he counters. Safe. I hate the cold. Silas finally turns his head. He takes off his sunglasses,
30:30and the intensity in his gaze hits me harder than the California sun. His eyes are dark,
30:35guarded, and tired. Cleo, do not play games. I am handing you an exit. Take it. You're trying to
30:43fire me, I say, stepping into his personal space. I see his breath hitch. Just once. You're terrified,
30:50because for the first time in your terrifyingly organized life, you actually want someone to stay.
30:57I am trying, he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. To keep you alive. I'm alive
31:04right here. I lift the envelope, the freedom, the money, the safety, and let it drop. It hits the
31:12patio tiles with a dull slap. Silas looks down at it, then back up at me, his eyes widening just a
31:19fraction. That is a reckless amount of money to throw on the floor. I'm a reckless girl. You knew
31:25that when you caught my hand in your jacket pocket. I reach out, straightening his lapel, my fingers
31:31lingering over his heart. It's beating fast. I don't want Zurich. I don't want safe. I want the
31:37trouble. As long as the trouble is you. The control snaps. He moves so fast, I barely register it.
31:45His hand tangling in my hair, pulling me in. The kiss isn't gentle. It's a collision. Possessive
31:52and relieved. Tasting of espresso and adrenaline. The sun beats down on us, exposing everything.
31:59No shadows to hide in. No secrets left to keep. When he pulls back, breathless, his forehead resting
32:06against mine, he lets out a rough laugh. You are going to be the death of me, Cleo. I grin,
32:12breathless, and absolutely certain. Maybe. But what a way to go. He kisses me again,
32:18and in the bright, blinding light of the afternoon, I know I've finally stolen the only thing of his
32:24that actually matters.
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