Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Emma
I ’m pacing around my cottage, phone in hand, waiting for Ryan to pick up. The weight of everything is pressing down on me. I know this call is important, more so than I’d like to admit.
Ryan finally answers, his voice gruff and tired. “Emma, what’s up?”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I just wanted to check in. How did your conversation with Miles go?” Miles had warned me that he was going to tell Ryan that we’ve been talking—although we’ve agreed not to mention our budding relationship to anyone yet.
“He’s staying in Pelican Point for a while longer,” Ryan says after a pause. “He’s got his eye on the winery.”
“We’ve met and have been talking, comparing notes. I know you asked him to come to the winery to do the review.”
“Ah. Well, he has a few valid suspicions about what’s going on.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. Miles had already mentioned he’d be sticking around but hearing it from Ryan makes it all feel more real. There’s so much at stake now. “Okay. Well, I wanted to let you know that Alex, your other spy, is all set to start at the winery tomorrow morning as the Apprentice Scholarship winner. Your plan is in motion.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then Ryan speaks, his tone cautious. “Good. That should give us the edge we need.”
I feel a knot tightening in my stomach as I realize what we’re really doing. Ryan’s idea to plant Alex inside the winery wasn’t just about giving someone an opportunity. It was about having someone on the inside—someone who could keep tabs on Brennen and report back. It feels like a betrayal, but I remind myself that we’re doing this for Brennen’s sake—not to hurt him, but to save the winery and our family’s legacy.
“I hope this works,” I say softly, feeling a flicker of doubt.
“It will,” Ryan says firmly. “Just keep an eye on things, Emma. We’re playing a dangerous game here.”
His words hit harder than I expect, and for a moment, I want to argue. But I don’t. Instead, I say goodbye and hang up, the weight of everything crashing down on me.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the phone in my hand, wondering if I’m really prepared for what’s coming. There’s so much I haven’t told Ryan—about my feelings for Miles, about the things we’ve shared... hell, I barely know how I feel as it is. But I can’t let that cloud my judgment. Not when the stakes are this high.
The next morning, I drive out to the winery with Alex in tow. He takes in the sprawling vineyards and the elegant architecture of Celtic Knot. His excitement is contagious, but I can’t shake the gnawing feeling in my gut as I prepare to introduce him to Brennen.
“This place is amazing,” Alex says, his voice full of awe. “I’m excited to work here.”
I force a smile, trying to push away the unease. “It’s a great opportunity, Alex. You’re going to learn so much; just make sure to stick to Ryan’s plan. Okay?”
“I know what I’m doing, Emma. I won’t let either one of you down. Promise.” He gives me a reassuring smile and it’s all I have to go on, so I’ll take his word for it. Ryan trusts him, so I should, too.
As we pull up to the winery, Brennen is already outside, talking to a few workers. His expression is tense, as it usually is these days, but he manages a tight smile when he sees us.
“Morning, Emma,” he says, his eyes flicking to Alex. “Who’s this?”
“This is Alex Castillo,” I say, keeping my tone light. “He’s the winner of the Apprentice Scholarship. He’ll be working for you and with Sophie for the next few months, learning the ropes.”
Brennen’s eyebrows shoot up, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “An apprentice? Free labor? When did we advertise for an apprentice scholarship?”
“Pretty much,” I say with a smirk, trying to keep the conversation casual and ignoring his question about the scholarship. “I figured it would help lighten the load a bit.”
Brennen lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Well, Sophie’s gonna hate this, but I’m not going to turn down free help. Welcome aboard, Alex.”
Alex beams, clearly excited to get started and playing his part. Brennen gives him a quick rundown of what he’ll be doing, but I can see the tension in his eyes. He’s still on edge, still worried about the winery’s future, and I can’t blame him. If sales and wine tasting don’t turn around soon, everything we’ve worked for could crumble.
Once Alex is settled in, I take him over to where I thought Sophie, the head winemaker, would be, but she’s not there. Sophie’s been with the winery for quite a few months now, and she’s been a godsend. Her innovative ideas have breathed new life into the winery, but even she’s feeling the pressure with the looming review from Miles, and she’s not going to like this surprise. Instead, I decide to send him in on his own.
I wave over one of the bartenders. “Tony, this is Alex Castillo,” I say. “He’s the new apprentice. Can you show him where Sophie is working?”
Tony looks up from his work, and clearly not happy about the new addition to the team. “Alex, huh?” Tony turns to me, “I didn’t realize we were hiring.”
Alex grins. “I’m free labor.”
“Can you just show him where Sophie is so he can get started?” I ask Tony again.
“Sure.” He puts down his rag from cleaning the tasting room, “This way.”
I watch as Alex follows Tony, and I decide it’s time to hightail it out of here. I do not want to be here when Sophie finds out about Alex.
I head back to my office on the other side of town, the tension in my chest building as I sit down at my desk to have my pre-lunch coffee. I pull out the threatening demand letter Frank sent me late last week, a nasty letter from his client threatening to sue Celtic Knot for wrongful termination. The client in question, a former maintenance worker, had been fired for stealing, and now Frank is trying to turn it into a lawsuit. Asshole.
I grit my teeth as I read through the letter again, my anger simmering just below the surface. This time, though, I have the upper hand.
I draft a response, laying out the facts clearly and concisely. If Frank’s client wants to sue for wrongful termination, we’ll file felony charges for theft. I’m not about to let this turn into a drawn-out legal battle, dirtying the winery’s name even further. We have enough on our plate without dealing with Frank’s bullshit.
As I type, my phone buzzes with a message from Miles. I glance at it, my heart skipping a beat despite myself.
Miles: Had a great time the other night. Hope you’re doing okay. Wanna do dinner tonight? I’ll bring the meal.
Me: Sounds perfect. See you at seven.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, but I quickly push it aside. I finish my response, hit send, and lean back in my chair, letting out a long breath. Frank is dealt with, for now. Alex is in place at the winery, and everything is moving according to Ryan’s plan.
But as I sit there, staring at my computer screen, I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the calm before the storm. There’s so much at stake, so many moving pieces, and I can’t help but wonder how long we can keep everything from falling apart.
The soft ping of my email notification breaks the silence in my office, pulling me from the depths of an impossible contract revision. I squint at the subject line, blinking twice to make sure I’m reading it right.
Notice of Suspension: Frank Morely.
A wave of relief washes over me so suddenly that I feel lightheaded. It’s finally done. I quickly scan the email, confirming that Frank Morely has been officially suspended from practicing law in the state of Florida. There’s no coming back from this. His underhanded tactics, the juror intimidation, bribing a judge—it’s all caught up to him.
I let out a long, shaky breath, pushing back from my desk as a small, satisfied smile plays at my lips. This battle with Frank has been dragging on for far too long. His arrogance, the way he thought he could manipulate the system for his own gain, has always made my blood boil. But now, he’s finally paying the price.
I shut my laptop and grab my phone, already texting Miles.
Me: Good news today. Frank’s been suspended!
Miles: That’s huge. I’m proud of you, Emma! Anything I can do to help you celebrate?
Me: You’re still cooking dinner tonight, right?
Miles: You betcha. I’ll be there at seven. You pick the wine; I’ll bring the food.
Just seeing his reply makes my heart race. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, my feelings for Miles grew deeper and faster than I expected. There’s something about the way he grounds me, the way he always seems to know exactly what to say. I feel safe with him. And after everything with Frank, a night of good food, wine, and the warmth of his presence sounds like exactly what I need.
I grab my purse and keys, taking one last look around my office before heading out. The drive home is peaceful, the sun setting in the distance, casting a soft orange glow over the horizon. I feel lighter, more relaxed than I have in weeks. Frank’s suspension is a weight off my shoulders, and tonight, I get to enjoy it with Miles.
When I pull up to my beachside cottage, I hesitate for a second. Something feels… off. The air around the cottage feels heavy, thick with tension.
I shake my head, laughing at myself. I’m being ridiculous. It’s probably just the aftermath of the stress I’ve been under. I shrug off the feeling and unlock the door, stepping into the familiar warmth of my home.
Once inside, I kick off my heels and head straight for the kitchen. A glass of wine sounds perfect right about now. I hum softly as I open the wine cabinet, my mind already drifting to thoughts of the evening with Miles. I can picture him standing in my kitchen, the smell of something delicious filling the air, his smile making my pulse quicken.
I reach for a bottle of red, but as I turn to grab a glass, a shadow moves at the edge of my vision. Before I can process what’s happening, cold steel presses against my head, and my heart stops.
A gun.
My breath hitches, fear slamming into me like a tidal wave as I freeze in place. I drop the wine bottle spilling red wine everywhere. My fingers grip the counter so hard they ache, my pulse pounding in my ears. The world around me blurs, my mind screaming at me to do something, anything, but I can’t move.
I can’t think.
All I can focus on is the gun pressed to my head.
“Don’t move,” a low voice growls from behind me.
My heart races faster, panic clawing at my throat. I don’t recognize the voice, but it’s dripping with malice, and the way he speaks sends chills down my spine. My mind scrambles, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to remember the self-defense tips I’d heard a million times but never thought I’d need.
“I—I won’t,” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Good girl,” the voice sneers.
I swallow hard, my body trembling with fear as I try to figure out what to do. My phone is in my purse, but it’s across the kitchen. There’s no way I can reach it without making things worse.
“Turn around,” the voice commands.
I turn slowly, my heart racing as I come face-to-face with a man I recognize.
Judge Stanley.
He’s tall, muscular, with a cruel sneer etched on his face. His dark eyes gleam with twisted satisfaction as he sees the recognition cross my face, his grip on the gun steady.
“What do you want?” I manage to ask, my voice shaky but strong enough to surprise even me.
“To do to you what you’ve done to me—ruin you,” he says, his eyes narrowing.
“How have I ruined you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, trying to buy myself time to think.
The man steps closer, his sneer widening. “What I wanted was for you to mind your own damn business, but you Murphys just can’t do that, can you?”
Before I can react, his hand lashes out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me forward. I stumble, my breath catching in my throat as he slams me against the kitchen counter, the gun now pressed to my forehead.
“You think you can just ruin people’s lives and walk away?” he hisses, his breath hot against my face. “You file ethics complaints against that dumbass Frank and now he’s singing like a canary to the cops, dragging me down with him.” His lips are against my ear. “You think you’re untouchable, Emma? Your brothers are nothing, your father was nothing, and you’re nothing.”
The fear spikes deep in my gut, but something else ignites within me—anger. I can feel it building, pushing through the terror. The Murphy’s aren’t nothing and I’ve worked too hard to be reduced to this moment, to be a victim in my own home.
I glance around the kitchen, looking for anything I can use, but his grip on my wrist tightens painfully, and I wince.
“What are you looking for? Nothing can save you now.” he growls.
And then, as if by some miracle, the front door creaks open.
“Emma?” It’s Miles’s voice.
The man’s eyes widen in surprise, and I use the distraction to jerk my knee up, aiming for his groin. It’s a sloppy hit, but it’s enough. He grunts in pain, his grip loosening just enough for me to break free. I bolt for the living room, my heart pounding as I scream for Miles.
“Miles! Gun! He has a gun!”
Miles bursts through the house, his eyes locking onto the man in the kitchen. Without missing a beat, he charges forward, tackling him to the ground. The gun skitters across the floor, spinning out of reach as they struggle.
I watch, frozen in place, as Miles overpowers him, pinning him to the floor with a ferocity I’ve never seen before. His face is a mask of determination, his muscles flexing as he holds him down, breathing hard.
“Emma, call the police and pick up the gun!” Miles shouts, his voice commanding and steady.
I snap out of my daze, rushing to grab my phone from my purse. My fingers tremble as I dial 911, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I relay the situation to the operator.
Within minutes, the police arrive, and the judge is dragged out in handcuffs, still sneering at me as he’s shoved into the back of a squad car. I watch from the front porch, my hands still shaking, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire.
When it’s all over, Miles turns to me, his eyes filled with worry. He steps closer, pulling me into his arms without a word. I collapse against him, the weight of everything crashing down on me all at once. I bury my face in his chest, my body trembling as I cling to him.
“You’re safe now,” he whispers, his voice soft and soothing. “I’ve got you.”
I nod, my throat tight with emotion. I don’t know what I would have done if Miles hadn’t shown up when he did. The fear, the helplessness—it was overwhelming. But now, wrapped in his arms, I feel a sense of safety, a sense of strength that I never thought I’d find in the middle of all this chaos.
“Thank you for being there. You saved me. Again.”
He holds me tighter, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I’ll always protect you, Emma. Always.”
And as I stand there in his arms, the weight of what just happened pressing down on me, I know one thing for sure: I’m not alone anymore.