Evelyn rolled her eyes instinctively.
This man—
The kitchen door creaked open.
Silas leaned against the frame, sleeves slightly rolled, a smirk already resting on his lips as his eyes found her.
Without a word, he stretched his hand toward her.
Waiting.
Evelyn looked at it.
Then at him.
And slowly…
A smile curved her lips.
She shifted the recorder behind her back.
"Looking for something?" she asked lightly.
Silas's smirk deepened.
"Are you playing with me?" he asked, voice low.
A beat.
"Fine."
He stepped closer.
Evelyn's heart skipped—but she didn't move back.
Not yet.
His hands moved behind her, searching, precise.
She let out a small laugh, slipping sideways.
"Come and get it if you can," she teased.
And then—
She pushed against his chest and tried to dart past him.
She didn't make it two steps.
Silas caught her.
Effortless.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into him.
Evelyn let out a breathless laugh, struggling lightly as he turned her to face him.
"Unfair," she muttered.
"Very," he agreed calmly.
Before she could react, he caught both her wrists in one hand, holding them firmly.
Controlled.
Not rough.
But impossible to break.
Her breath hitched slightly.
His free hand slid behind her, finding the recorder.
Her fingers curled tightly around it.
"No—"
Silas raised a brow.
Then, slowly…
He pried her fingers open.
One by one.
Deliberate.
Unhurried.
Until the recorder slipped free into his hand.
Silas lifted it slightly between them.
"I win."
Evelyn huffed softly, though a smirk still played on her lips.
"So…" she tilted her head, studying him, "I don't understand English, huh?"
Silas blinked once.
Then—
A quiet chuckle escaped him as realization settled.
Right.
He turned slightly, shaking his head faintly.
"It was the only way they'd trust you enough to talk," he said simply.
Evelyn nodded slowly.
But her gaze dropped.
Something in her expression shifted.
Silas noticed.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"What?"
She shook her head quickly. "Nothing."
He didn't move.
Didn't look away.
Just watched her.
Waiting.
Evelyn exhaled softly, then lifted her eyes back to him.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
Silas's brow lifted slightly.
"Why?"
Her fingers curled lightly against her palm.
"You told me to leave," she said. "Before you started talking."
Silas didn't hesitate.
"That was part of the plan," he replied calmly. "You were supposed to record their words. Not mine."
"I know that," Evelyn said quickly. "And I wouldn't have recorded you."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"Or were you scared I would?"
Her gaze held his now.
Searching.
Accusing.
"You don't trust me."
Silas exhaled slowly, tilting his head slightly.
"If you had stayed," he said, voice even, "you would have reacted."
Evelyn frowned slightly.
"You think I can't control myself?"
"I think you're human," he replied.
A beat.
"And if you heard what I was going to say… your face would have betrayed you."
Silence.
Evelyn swallowed.
Her gaze dropped again.
Why is he always right…
She turned away slightly, moving to the other counter, needing distance.
Silas watched her.
Unmoving.
Then—
"Maybe," he said slowly, "you would have earned my trust… if you hadn't argued about recording them."
Evelyn's brows pulled together.
"And besides…" he added, almost casually, "you've been valuable."
The word landed.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
But heavy.
Evelyn didn't react immediately.
Her fingers tightened slowly against her palm, nails pressing into her skin.
Valuable.
Her gaze dropped for a second—just a second—like she was trying to place the word somewhere it didn't hurt.
But it didn't fit.
Not after everything.
Not after the way he looked at her…
The way he touched her…
The way he called her flower.
Her chest tightened faintly.
So that's all I am to you?
A tool.
A convenience.
Something useful.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out at first.
She let out a quiet breath instead, almost like she was steadying herself.
Then she looked up at him.
Slowly.
"Valuable?" she repeated, softer this time—but the softness wasn't gentle. It was controlled.
Careful.
Dangerous in its own way.
Her head tilted just slightly, eyes searching his like she was trying to understand something she wasn't sure she wanted to.
"Is that all I am to you?"
There it was.
Not loud.
Not emotional.
But it lingered between them.
Silas saw it—the shift.
The way her shoulders weren't as relaxed.
The way her voice didn't carry that teasing edge anymore.
Something had changed.
And for the first time in a while—
He didn't answer immediately.
Silas didn't answer immediately.
His gaze stayed on her—steady, unreadable—but something behind it shifted.
Just slightly.
Like he was weighing his words.
Or deciding if she deserved one.
A quiet breath left him.
"Valuable," he repeated, slower this time.
Not dismissive.
Not mocking.
Deliberate.
He took a step toward her.
Not close enough to touch—
But close enough to change the air between them.
"You walked into a room full of people who would have killed you for understanding a single word," he said calmly. "And you didn't flinch."
Another step.
His voice lowered.
"You listened. You adapted. You didn't break character."
His eyes held hers now—sharper.
"That makes you valuable."
A pause.
Then—
His head tilted slightly.
"And rare."
The word came quieter.
Less guarded.
Evelyn's breath caught—but he wasn't done.
Silas's gaze dropped briefly to her lips—then back to her eyes, like he'd caught himself doing it.
"You want me to call you something else?"
he asked.
Not teasing this time.
Something deeper.
More dangerous.
"Say it."
A beat.
"Tell me what you want to be to me, Evelyn."
Silence stretched between them.
Thick.
Charged.
Silence stretched.
Not empty—
Heavy.
Evelyn didn't answer immediately.
Her fingers rested lightly against the counter, but she wasn't really aware of it. Her mind was elsewhere… caught between what she should say and what she wanted to say.
Because those were two very different things.
Her gaze dropped for a second.
Then slowly—
She looked back at him.
"What do you call people you trust?" she asked quietly.
Not teasing.
Not playful.
Something softer.
Careful.
Silas didn't respond right away.
His eyes stayed on her—sharp, measuring, like he was trying to understand what exactly she was asking for.
Or what she was offering.
"That depends," he said at last, voice low.
"On what?"
"On what they've earned."
The words were calm.
But not gentle.
Evelyn's lips parted slightly.
There it is again…
That distance.
That line he never lets her cross.
Her jaw tightened just a little.
"Then don't call me anything," she said, quieter now.
A pause.
"Not until I earn it."
Silas's gaze shifted.
Just slightly.
That… he hadn't expected.
Most people asked for more.
Demanded it.
Tried to claim a place near him.
But her?
She stepped back instead.
Refused it.
His head tilted faintly.
"Careful," he murmured. "You might not like what comes with earning it."
Evelyn let out a small breath—almost a quiet laugh.
"Too late for that," she said.
Her eyes met his again.
Steady now.
No hesitation.
"I'm already here."
Silence.
But this time—
It wasn't tense.
It was something else.
Something deeper.
Something neither of them was naming.
Silas watched her for a long second.
Then—
A faint smirk returned.
Slow.
Knowing.
"Then we'll see," he said quietly.
A beat.
And softer—
"Detective."
The word landed differently this time.
Not a title.
Not distance.
Something closer to… acknowledgment.