CHAPTER 3: BLURRED LINES

Three weeks passed in a blur of flashcards, silent laughter, and lingering stares.

Clara quickly learned that the Vance estate was practically a fortress.

There were men with earpieces at every door, and the massive iron gates never opened without Julian’s strict permission.

She also learned that Julian Vance was a man carrying the weight of a violent underworld on his shoulders.

But when he was in the playroom with Clara and Leo, he was just a father desperate to connect with his son.

“Am I doing this right?” Julian asked, his deep voice carrying a rare trace of uncertainty.

He was sitting on the plush rug, his large, calloused hands trying to form the sign for ‘family’.

Clara knelt beside him, her shoulder brushing against his arm.

“Close,” she murmured, feeling a strange jolt of electricity where their skin accidentally touched.

She reached out and gently adjusted his fingers.

“You have to bring them together, like this,” Clara guided him, her soft hands wrapping around his rough knuckles.

Julian stopped breathing.

He didn’t look at his hands. He looked right at her lips.

“Like this?” he whispered, his voice suddenly thick and heavy.

Clara looked up, realizing their faces were only inches apart.

The danger radiating from him was intoxicating, pulling her in like a magnetic force.

Would you have pulled away, or would you have leaned closer to the fire?

“Yes,” Clara breathed, her eyes darting down to his mouth. “Exactly like that.”

Julian’s hand uncurled, leaving the sign language behind as his fingers traced the line of her jaw.

“You’ve changed everything in this house, Clara,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “You’ve changed him.”

He leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to her throat. “And you are terrifying me.”

Before Clara could ask why, a massive explosion shook the foundation of the estate.

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