The day after my birthday, Mason and Elijah had to leave on urgent business, leaving me in the care of Blake, whom I made a conscious effort to avoid. The days passed, and I found myself retreating further into the confines of my room. Only at mealtime did I manage to drag myself downstairs, grateful that Cole was usually there with his light-hearted and easy conversations, instead of Harley who consistently pushed me to open up.

Shielding myself from the world wasn't the intention but the loss of my mother, our mother, loomed over me like a constant shadow. A shadow I wasn't prepared to share. Without mum's warm hugs and reassuring words, I felt adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

On Tuesday afternoon, while I was lost in a book, Elijah arrived back home. Clearly determined to bring me out of my self-imposed isolation, he insisted on taking me for a walk in the garden. Gio, always considerate, had packed a small lunch for us. I tried to resist, but Elijah's gentle persistence won, and soon we were strolling through the meticulously groomed greenery.

Though I would never admit it, the fresh air did wonders for my mood. Elijah and I didn't say much during the walk, but I noticed his thoughtful glances in my direction, his mind clearly preoccupied with something important.

Eventually, we found ourselves on a bench in the overgrown garden, surrounded by flowers of all colours. I was munching on the cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches Gio had thoughtfully packed when Elijah's words stopped me, broaching a subject I had been dreading.

"Maddie, I'd like to talk to you about Abigail's funeral," he said, gently.

My heart clenched, and the sandwich suddenly felt like a rock in my stomach. I swallowed hard before responding, "Okay."

The funeral—the event I had been avoiding and dreading. I had known it was coming, that this conversation was inevitable, but part of me had hoped that ignoring it would make it disappear completely. If only life were as easy as that.

"Mason has chosen a funeral director, and we'd like to set a date in the coming day or so. Do you have a preference for where the funeral should be held? Here or back in Kent?" he asked.

His voice was soft, tender as usual. I could tell he was trying to be as sympathetic as possible, but there was only so much sugar-coating you could do when it came down to a mother's funeral.

I shrugged. "I don't mind," I said.

"It's your decision, Maddie," he said. His hand found mine in a comforting gesture, but instead it felt trapping.

"I just... I don't want to decide," I admitted, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders. "She's your mum too."

She was your mum too.

He nodded compassionately. "Okay, we can deal with that."

"Just, if it's back home, will you all come? Is that where she'd be buried?"

I didn't know how funerals worked, the only funeral I'd ever been to before was for Snuggles, my pet hamster who broke my heart when I had to bury him in the garden when I was nine.

"Maddie, we'll all be there, no matter where it is. We'd fly to Australia if needed."

I mustered a small smile. "Okay, um, thanks." Then I blurted out another question without thinking, "Can we keep it small? Mum wouldn't have wanted a big show with people she barely knew. Just those who really cared about her, not her stupid work colleagues or school parents."

Elijah's smile held a touch of sadness. "Of course, Maddie. We'll make sure it's a small gathering."

"And her favorite color was purple," I quickly added, my voice catching on the memory. "She pretended she didn't like flowers, but she secretly liked lilacs. She told me she brought them from work but she used to buy them from the supermarket every other Friday. So, you know, maybe we could have some lilacs. Not that she'd, you know, know. Never mind, ignore me," I trailed off.

Elijah's warm hand landed on mine, effectively cutting off my word ramble. I looked up at met his steady, brown gaze. Like a lifeline. "I'm sure we can make arrangements," his eyes creased in the corners as he gave a sympathetic smile and I felt a slight pang in my chest at the sight.

"Cool."

I remembered that we were talking about a damn funeral here. Abigail wouldn't see whether the flowers were purple lilacs or bright yellow roses, but for some reason, it mattered to me.

After that uncomfortable conversation with Elijah, he received a phone call on our way back. I could tell he didn't want to leave me, but whatever the call was, it seemed pressing. His concerned eyes lingered on me as I left, but I couldn't bring myself to let him in. The grief was mine to carry. Alone.

On Thursday, Mason finally returned, completing the household once again. I was, unsurprisingly, engrossed in a book when Cole knocked on my door, informing me that I had been summoned by his lord almighty... sorry, Mason... in his office.

Cole escorted me downstairs, and as we walked through the dimly lit corridor, my nerves started to get the better of me. The suffocating air of authority hit me as we entered Mason's office after being invited in. The room seemed too large, but the dark walls made it feel claustrophobic. With a gentle click, the door closed behind Cole as he left, leaving me alone with Mason. He sat regally behind his impressive oak desk, like a king in his domain, almost silhouetted by the sunlight filtering through the bay window behind him. I fidgeted nervously as I settled into the chair across from him, wondering why I felt so intimidated by this man.

As he noticed my unease, one of Mason's eyebrows arched, and he commented, "You know, I've never had someone look so terrified before I even said a word."

"Sorry," I murmured, feeling like a timid mouse under his gaze.

He offered to bring Cole back in or call Elijah to join us, but I quickly shook my head. That would have been even worse; I didn't want to appear weak in front of him. I was determined to handle this on my own.

"Good," he said, pouring a glass of water from a carafe and pushing it towards me - it was a simple act of kindness that surprised me. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Thanks," I said, trying to swallow down my anxieties with the cool liquid.

"How have you found this week?"

"Fine," I replied, keeping it simple, not wanting to burden him with the weight of my emotions. It was like walking on a tightrope.

"Settling okay?"

Each question he asked felt like trying to solve one of those deceptively simple maths problems. It was like like trying to decode a quadratic equation in my mind before even opening my mouth to reply.

"Mhm. Thanks for getting my stuff," I said hesitantly, recalling how Luke had kindly brought over my belongings.

Mason dismissed my appreciation, his penetrating gaze never wavering. He pressed on persistently. "So tell me, why have you been hiding away in your room?"

I tried to speak, but my voice faltered. I shifted in my chair, feeling strangely exposed. "I don't think I have," I whispered quietly.

"Pardon?"

"I, um, I haven't meant to," I said, a little louder. "It's just, um, well, it's been a lot."

Mason sighed and leaned back in his chair, seeming to ponder his next move. He was like a master chess player, carefully observing, assessing, and deciding on his strategy with careful precision.

"From today until the start of school, I want you to leave the house for a few hours each day," he decided, his tone resolute.

"But..." I began, feeling my independence being challenged.

"Not up for discussion," he said firmly, cutting off any room for argument. "And on Saturday, you will meet your therapist at eleven."

"My therapist?"

"Luke. I believe you've already met him."

I nodded, a mix of trepidation and gratitude swirling within me. I had met Luke. He was the man who had driven all the way to pack up my belongings from home and bring them here. He exuded warmth and understanding with his sandy blonde hair and easy smile, like a comforting shelter in the storm. Besides, knowing he was close friends with Elijah gave me reassurance.

Mason continued, laying out a schedule for the coming weeks before school started, including Abigail's funeral on Tuesday. His eyes shuttered, and he became even more detached, running through the details of the event with military precision, as if this was a battle plan and not a farewell to a family member. I couldn't help but wonder how this would affect my brothers who shared our mother. What it must be like to grieve for a parent they hadn't seen in ten years. Especially for Mason, who had essentially been raised by her for most of his life.

I didn't have much time to think about this though, as Mason swiftly handed me a white box with a new phone inside - a brand new phone. He explained that it had a synced calendar and contacts to help me stay organised and on top of my schedule. I was genuinely touched by the gesture and thanked him sincerely, but he merely shrugged it off as if it were as simple as bringing home a doughnut. The man certainly had a way of masking his emotions.

"There are two numbers for me. Please remember not to use my work number unless it's an emergency," he reminded me.

"Yeah, I understand," I murmured, still trying to process the enormity of the whole situation.

"Good."

He then handed me a black, leather-bound folder. It contained the house rules, meticulously put together like a business plan. I held back any comments, not wanting to offend the man who had clearly put so much thought into it.

"I assure you they're all fair and straightforward. The folder's for you to keep, but I'll run you through the important ones now," he said, flipping open his own folder, which I assumed held the same document.

I gave a barely-there nod, trying to process the whirlwind of information.

"Honesty," he began, pointing to the first bullet point. "I expect you to be honest at all times, with me and your brothers. No evasive answers."

My heart rate quickened under his unwavering gaze, and I nodded, not daring to defy him.

"Respect. Show respect to us, the house, and yourself. I don't expect any issues here based on your record, but it's worth mentioning. Next is privacy. There's to be no social media, and you must be careful about photos taken of you and where they end up. Non-negotiable. Any questions so far?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if anticipating any sign of resistance.

I struggled to keep up with the whirlwind of information but managed to shake my head in response. "Mum didn't like social media anyway," I mumbled, feeling like a child in front of a headteacher.

"Good. Next is the law. If I find out you've been drinking, smoking, or engaging in drugs or any illegal substances, there will be serious consequences. Understood?"

I nodded once more.

"This one is serious, Maddie. Understand?" he reiterated, his voice uncompromising.

"Yeah, I wouldn't, I'd never do that," I replied quietly, my throat tightening.

Mason nodded, settling back in his chair.

"Alongside this, you're not old enough for a relationship. I won't put a limit on how many male friends you have, but absolutely no relationships. Clear?" His gaze was like steel, making it clear that he expected obedience.

I didn't get a chance to answer before he continued, moving on with the rules. "This next one might seem excessive, but no school friends at the house. You can go to their place, but security and privacy are top priorities for us," he explained.

"Are you famous or something?" I couldn't help but blurt out, feeling that the rules were definitely over the top, far too extreme for the average family.

Mason raised an eyebrow, his expression cryptic. "Not quite," he replied, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I recalled the security outside and remembered Jackson outside on my birthday. "There's security outside," I mentioned, trying to make sense of it all.

"There is. 24/7."

"Why?"

"Like I said, security is important to us," he replied, leaving me yet again with more questions than answers. "This brings us to the next point. There are some things I won't tell you, no matter what you may hear or ask. I'd advise you against pushing us," he said pointedly.

I wanted to speak up, but my voice barely escaped me. "But I thought honesty was a rule," I said softly, still testing my limits with how far I could push.

Mason put down his folder, leant forward slightly and fixed me with an intense gaze. "It is. I will never lie to you, Maddie, if I don't have to. I'll be honest when I can't answer your questions. Remember that."

I quietly acknowledged his words, swallowing back the tightness in my throat.

He then addressed my relationship with Blake. "When Elijah and I are away for work, you'll be under Blake's care. Trust him and listen to him," Mason instructed.

Anxiety crept up my spine, and I couldn't hide my unease about being left in Blake's care.

"Why are you so afraid of him?" Mason probed, his eyes searching for the truth.

I should've known he would notice my avoidance of Blake. I shrugged, my fingers nervously fidgeting with the edges of the folder. Explaining the inexplicable fear I had of my brother felt impossible.

Mason studied me thoughtfully, then tapped on his phone for a few moments before setting it down.

"The final rule I'd like to mention now goes hand in hand with privacy. I don't want you wandering down this corridor by yourself, okay?"

I nodded, feeling both apprehensive and confused by the new rules. This was a whole new level of restrictions I hadn't experienced before. Back home, I had been allowed to go to the playground alone by the time I was nine, but here, even visiting a part of the house alone at thirteen was off-limits.

"You were raised as an only child, Maddie, and you've come to a family with six brothers. While I'll try to soften the transition, there's no doubt there'll be changes you're not used to."

"I get it," I said softly, trying to accept that things were bound to be different here.

"I'll raise you differently from Abigail, and I might not always get it right, but everything I do will always be in your best interests."

The rules he'd laid out were undoubtedly strict and overwhelming, but deep down, I knew they came from a place of care. After all, he didn't have to take me in, and yet he did. As conflicting thoughts battled in my mind, one thing became clear - I was grateful for having a home, a place where I belonged. If Mason didn't care, he wouldn't have bothered with all these rules; he would have let me run wild. At least, that's what I tried to convince myself.

"Thank you," I whispered, gratitude welling up inside me. "For taking me in after Mum... well, you know," my voice wavered slightly.

"You never have to thank me for that, Maddie."

I mustered the courage to meet his gaze, and for the first time, I saw a different side of Mason. His eyes, usually resembling stormy waves crashing against cliffs, were now like the calm, still ocean in the moonlight. There was a tenderness in his expression that I hadn't expected, and it made me feel strangely reassured.

"Mase?"

I didn't even realise I had used a nickname until something flickered across his gaze.

He blinked, composing himself. "Yes?"

My anxiety knotted in my stomach as I broached the subject. "You know the people that were chasing after Mum and me in Italy?" My voice wavered. "Do you know if the police found them? Do you know what's happening?"

"They're being dealt with," he said firmly, his voice taking on a steely tone. I almost regretted asking as his eyes darkened to the familiar colour of storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

"Do the police need to talk to-"

"Maddie," he interjected firmly, his voice cutting through my questions like ice. "They're being dealt with."

I nodded, understanding that some things were best left unsaid. An uncomfortable silence settled between us, and I waited, hoping he would offer more clarity. However, our conversation was abruptly interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Mason shot me a quick, assessing glance before giving permission, "Come in."

As soon as Blake entered, a tension in the room seemed to amplify, and I couldn't help but suppress a flinch. I was certain Mason's keen gaze had noticed it, but fortunately, he didn't mention it. Blake stood by the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, exuding an aura of silent power that was surely meant to intimidate. I glanced from him to Mason, feeling caught in the middle of something I couldn't fully comprehend. I wondered if they were communicating through an unspoken language that I hadn't learnt.

"This afternoon, Blake is going to take you into town," Mason informed me, his voice matter-of-fact.

"What?" I couldn't help the shock that laced my words. Spending time with Blake wasn't exactly on my list of favorite activities.

"Xander and Elijah are at work, and Harley's gone to see Doc at the clinic," Mason explained.

"What about Cole?"

With a raised eyebrow, he replied, "You have six brothers, Maddie, not one."

I glanced back at Blake, feeling torn. I didn't want to upset him, but he looked equally perturbed about spending time with me. Perhaps I was doing him a favor by declining his company. The whole prospect of going into town with him seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"I don't want to. I can stay at home," I protested quietly, the weight of Blake's gaze adding to my unease. His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I felt like he could see right through me.

Blake scoffed, his guard slipping momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure by the time I glanced back at him. The emotions flickering across his face were hard to decipher, but one thing was clear – he didn't want this any more than I did.

Mason remained resolute, his gaze firm. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to."

With a sense of resignation, I reluctantly agreed to spend the afternoon with Blake. As we left Mason's office, a feeling of unease settled deep within me. The tension between us was palpable, and I couldn't shake the chill that hung in the air.

Blake led me outside to his car, his strides purposeful and determined, while I struggled to keep up. When I walked around to the front seat, he raised an eyebrow. "Are you even big enough to sit in the front?"

"It's not my fault you're all giants," I mumbled under my breath, scuffing my feet over the rough stones of the ground. I wished I could come up with a better retort, but Blake's presence had a way of throwing me off balance.

He rolled his eyes, and I climbed inside when he unlocked the door. The car was gorgeous, with dark leather seats and sleek controls that screamed sophistication. I was no expert on cars, but even I could appreciate the beauty of this one.

The engine purred to life as we drove, but the atmosphere inside the car was anything but smooth. The tension between us was palpable, leaving me at a loss for words. Blake seemed lost in his own thoughts, his eyes glued to the road ahead, while I fidgeted nervously with the hem of my top.

During the fifteen-minute drive, he took a short call, something about stopping by the studio for a new prospect. I had no idea what that meant, but it didn't sound like something I wanted to be a part of. The remainder of the journey felt suffocating, leaving no room for conversation. I wondered if Ladybird's escape tactic of rolling out of the car in the movie was a viable option - surely a sprained wrist was worth skipping an afternoon with Blake.

The gravel's dust settled as Blake pulled up outside a tattoo studio on the outskirts of town. The place exuded an edgy energy, with its weathered facade and a parking lot filled with motorbikes and worn-down cars. A group of four tattooed guys loitered by the alleyway next to the studio, their intense gazes following Blake's every move as he parked in a reserved spot by the door. The sight of them sent a shiver down my spine, putting me on edge.

As Blake turned off the engine, his eyes met mine, and a sense of trepidation washed over me. He seemed preoccupied, and his next words didn't help calm my nerves.

"Stay in the car. I have something to deal with," he said, his voice low and serious.

My nerves intensified, and I hesitated, torn between the intrigue of exploring this mysterious world Blake was a part of and the unease that gnawed at me. The intimidating presence of the tattooed guys only added to my apprehension and I decided that at least if I was inside, Blake would be there. He might not like me, but surely he'd help if someone decided to drag me off into a dingy alley.

"I don't mind coming in," I quickly offered. "I have a book, and I promise I'll sit quietly."

Blake's impatience was evident in his tone as he replied, "I don't have time to babysit you. Don't open the doors, and stay put."

"Okay," I almost squeaked, before finding my voice again. "Um, how long will you be?"

"However long it takes." With that, he climbed out of the car and shut the door with a thud. I couldn't tell if it was intentional or just his lack of finesse.

Restlessly, I gazed out of the car window, my eyes following the ominous gray clouds that seemed to cast a shadow over the studio we were parked in front of. It had the appearance of a converted warehouse, with faded graffiti on its walls.

To pass the time, I downloaded and played a game on the phone Mason had given me – he assured me it came with an unlimited data plan, so I didn't feel too bad about that. As I was engrossed in the game, the sound of a motorbike caught my attention, and I looked up, intrigued.

I looked up as the motorbike swerved into the parking lot. The rider was a woman with. bright pink hair, which stood out against the muted, gray surroundings. She skillfully parked the vivid pink bike - yes, pink bike - and dismounted with a confident grace, her leather jacket adding to her edgy appearance. I couldn't help but watch her, feeling a mix of curiosity and admiration for her boldness. Like a character out of Grease, but with a modern, and cooler, twist.

She glanced over at the car and gave me a friendly nod.

After a moment, she pushed open the door to the tattoo parlor and disappeared inside. The thought of being left alone in the car again didn't thrill me, but at least I had my phone for company.

I was engrossed in my game, trying to beat my high score, when I felt a tap on the window. I looked up to see the pink-haired woman standing there, and I quickly rolled down the window.

"Hey, didn't mean to startle you," she said cheerfully.

"That's okay," I replied, feeling a bit flustered by her sudden appearance.

"You must be Maddie, right? Blake's sister."

"Yeah, that's me," I confirmed, wondering how she knew about me.

"Cool. I'm Summer. Blake asked me to check on you since he's taking a bit longer with new prospects," she explained.

"Oh, thank you," I said, relieved that I wouldn't be left entirely alone. Summer's easygoing and bright demeanor felt like a breath of fresh air amid the tense atmosphere surrounding my brother like a dark cloud.

Summer leaned against the car with an easy confidence. Curiosity getting the best of her, and she prodded, "So, what's your plan for today?"

I shrugged. "I'm really not that sure. Blake said he has something to deal with here, so I'm just waiting."

"Sounds like you're in for a thrilling day," she said with a chuckle, her laughter infectious.

I gave a half-hearted smile, suddenly feeling more at ease with her. "I guess so."

Taking a moment to think, she continued, "You know, I work with Blake at the studio. He's not as scary as he seems, I promise."

"Maybe." I was skeptical, but her reassurance gave me a glimmer of hope.

"Well, since you're here, want me to show you some of the cool tattoos we have? I could give you a little tour," she suggested with an enthusiastic grin.

My heart skipped a beat at the idea, but then I remembered Blake's strict instructions to stay in the car. "Blake told me to stay in the car, or I'd like that. Actually, his exact words were, 'don't even open the car door,'" I replied, half-jokingly.

Summer burst into laughter. "That sounds like something Blake would say. Don't worry, I'll let him know you're being the perfect little sister. Hopefully, he'll cut you some slack."

Her warmth lingered as she walked away, leaving me feeling a little lighter after our encounter. Summer's presence had a way of making me feel at ease, and perhaps even a little more hopeful about the future of my relationship with Blake. He couldn't be all that bad if Summer, the walking definition of her name, worked with him.

Lost in my thoughts, my attention was unexpectedly drawn to a new arrival in the parking lot – a sleek car that stuck out like a sore thumb, even against Blake's. Stepping out of the car was a tall and striking woman with wavy hair that cascaded around her like a waterfall. She had an air of confidence that demanded attention. Following her was a younger guy who looked like he belonged to royalty with his pressed suit, clean-cut features and golden hair. Their sibling resemblance was uncanny, and they spoke for a few minutes outside the car, clearly engrossed in a conversation. Then, the girl made her way inside, and the guy, with determination in his stride, approached me.

Wait, what?

I shuffled down in my seat, desperate to remain unnoticed, but it unfortunately didn't make me invisible from the inevitable. It suddenly struck me that I had forgotten to roll up the window. I took a breath, the man seemed friendly enough, although I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he brought with him. He leaned against the car, and his intense green eyes held mine captive.

"Hey there, you must be Blake's little sister," he said in an intriguing accented voice.

"Um, yeah," I replied, feeling a bit taken aback by his directness. Besides, how did everyone know who I was?

As he leaned closer, invading my personal space, tendrils of nerves shot up my spine. This man put me on edge, and I couldn't help but feel uneasy in his presence. My hand hovered on the button to raise the car window, just in case I needed to protect myself from this stranger.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice smooth but with an underlying edge that made me think he already knew it.

"Uh, Maddie," I stammered, feeling increasingly uncomfortable under his intense gaze. I couldn't explain it, but his piercing eyes seemed to see right through me, and I found myself desperate for a way out of this unnerving situation.

I noticed a snake tattoo winding up his arm as he casually placed it on the car window. "Sweet. I'm Alek."

My response was lost in nervous silence, and I briefly caught one of the smoking guys turning his gaze my way, grabbing the attention of another, before they both headed inside. Please send help.

"Blake around?" Alek asked, and I couldn't help but wonder how he knew my brother.

"You know Blake?" I asked, surprised.

"Sure. I'm one of his new prospects," he said casually.

Prospect... the word rang a bell, and I recalled Blake mentioning it on the phone earlier, as well as Summer mentioning it only minutes ago. But what did it mean? Alek must have noticed my confusion.

"Prospect. Like... intern, I guess. For the family business," he explained cryptically.

"Family business?" I probed, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Alek's gaze turned thoughtful, and he seemed to assess me for a moment. "So they keep the baby sister in the dark," he remarked quietly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, growing more curious and, I must admit, slightly annoyed at being referred to as the "baby sister." I wasn't a child to be sheltered; I could handle the truth, especially after what I'd been through.

Without a word, he reached into his back pocket and offered me a sleek silver business card, bearing only his name and a phone number. "For any questions you have, when you're ready." His eyes locked on mine, as if challenging me.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering as I debated whether to take the card from him. There was an allure to the unknown, but my gut warned me against delving into this world alone. Before I could decline, however, the studio door swung open, and Blake emerged with a fierce expression etched on his face. My heart pounded in my chest as I quickly pocketed the card, not wanting to draw any attention to it.

Alek's eyes locked onto mine, and his lips curled into a smirk. "Think about it," he taunted, taking a few steps back.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Blake's voice was a low growl, and I realized I hadn't witnessed the full extent of his anger until now.

Alek raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just introducing myself to the baby sister."

"Did I ask you to do that?" Blake's tone was laced with a dangerous edge.

"Well—"

"No. I didn't. And you're treading on thin ice if you want to make it."

Their eyes locked in a silent power struggle that made my palms clammy. Alek eventually dropped his gaze, offering a strained smile as if trying to smooth over the mounting tension. "Apologies," he muttered under his breath.

Blake's jaw was tightly clenched. "You have a bike?" he questioned sharply, and I guessed he wasn't talking about the non-motorised kind.

Alek appeared momentarily puzzled, but he quickly nodded. "Of course."

"Use it. Leaving that car in this part of town is damn foolish," Blake advised, his gaze pointedly drifting to Alek's flashy car, an out-of-place spectacle in the gritty surroundings.

Alek seemed ready to retort, perhaps pointing out the irony of Blake's own extravagant vehicle, but he thought better of it and merely nodded in compliance.

"No special treatment for being Anna's brother," Blake warned firmly. Then, with a nod toward the tattoo studio, he added, "Go."

Alek pivoted on his heel and headed toward the door, but before he disappeared inside, he cast a lingering, piercing glance over his shoulder in my direction. The chill that raced down my spine was palpable; his gaze felt unsettling, almost menacing.

As the car door slammed shut, I found myself jolted back to reality. Blake settled into the driver's seat, his brow furrowed as he turned to me. "You okay?"

The business card weighed heavily on my mind, and I could feel its presence, burning a hole in my jean pocket.

Blake's question snapped me back to reality. "He try anything? Say anything?" His voice was tense.

I shook my head, my throat tightening as I decided not to mention the card. Words escaped me for a moment, and I struggled to find my voice.

His frustration was palpable as he insisted, "Words. Talk to me."

Last chance, Maddie.

"N-no," I stammered, attempting to steady my breath. "He just wanted to know if you were inside."

Blake exhaled, his white-knuckled grip on the wheel relaxing just slightly. "Let's get out of here," he declared abruptly, shifting the car into reverse.

As we drove away, leaving the tattoo studio behind, I couldn't help but wonder what I had just gotten myself into. A sinking feeling settled in my chest. I knew I had inadvertently stepped into a world far beyond my control, and I couldn't ignore the gnawing realization that my life was about to become much more complicated.

-----------------

A/N: Hello lovely people! How are you all? It's been a few weeks.

Sooo... you've all been waiting for the rules, too harsh, or justified? Lot's of new things to talk about. Thoughts on Summer? Anna & Alek? The upcoming funeral?

What does everyone think about Alex's business card? Will Maddie use it, or hand it in? Do you trust them? Things are starting to pick up now!

Anything you'd like to see in the upcoming chapters?