Chapter 394 The Last One Didn’t Fit

Chapter 394: Chapter 394 The Last One Didn’t Fit

Emilia’s POV

Leighton’s smile softened.

"He finally found something worth waking up for."

I assumed he meant his will to live. It must have taken incredible determination to fight his way back after all those years.

"So," I asked after the waiter had taken our order, "what are you doing in downtown Haven’s Reach? Last I checked, you weren’t exactly the city type."

"I wasn’t much of any type back then." He smiled. "Now I work. My father’s teaching me the business."

Of course. Richie Lind had always been a powerful man, with plenty of money and a well-established pack behind him. His city might not have been on the same level as Sebastian’s, but the Lind family certainly had its share of influence.

For years, Richie hadn’t even considered letting Leighton near the family business. There had been no point. But now that his son had recovered, he was gradually bringing him into everything: the company, the family’s investments, and the pack.

"I’m here looking for investment opportunities," Leighton explained. "Some commercial property deals need to be handled in person. I’d just finished a meeting when I saw those three men following you."

"And you came rushing to my rescue." I rested my chin on my hand. "My hero."

"Not exactly." He gave me a knowing look. "I was about to step in when I noticed you leading them into that alley. So I followed to see what you were planning."

My eyebrows rose. "You knew I was leading them there?"

"You looked over your shoulder three times to make sure they were still following." He said it as casually as if he were listing items on a shopping list. "You were either setting a trap or making the worst escape attempt I’d ever seen. I went with the trap."

I huffed. The boy who once couldn’t find his own shoes could now read my every move like a report.

"For the record, I had those three handled. I didn’t need rescuing."

"I know." He didn’t hesitate. "I wasn’t protecting you, Emilia. I was protecting them."

I burst out laughing. "Well, thank you for sparing their miserable little lives."

"Someone has to look out for the weak."

"And what about you?" he asked after a moment. "What brings you here? Where’s Sebastian?"

His question sounded casual, but the name still caught me off guard.

I wrapped both hands around my cup and gave him the answer I was comfortable sharing.

"Uncle Chuck and I found family we never knew we had. My grandmother, my real grandmother, lives near Haven’s Reach. I’ve been staying with them for a while, getting to know everyone." I smiled. "I spent most of my life thinking I had no real family. Now that I’ve found them, I’m in no hurry to leave."

I didn’t mention Sebastian again. I wasn’t sure how to explain where things stood between us.

Leighton noticed that I’d avoided the question, but he didn’t push. He simply nodded and accepted my answer.

His gaze fell on the bag beside me. My notebook and several property listings were sticking out.

"You’re looking into a business," he said.

"Maybe." I took out my notebook. "My grandmother lives in a town that’s very closed off. The people there have lived near the forest for generations and rarely deal with the outside world." I flipped to a page. "The women make incredible sweets. Honey cakes, berry tarts, the kind of things that would ruin every other bakery for you. But none of them ever leave town."

"And you want to change that."

"I want to open a shop here in downtown Haven’s Reach." I met his eyes. "It’s not really about the money. I want to give them a safe way to experience the outside world. Somewhere they can take their first steps without feeling overwhelmed."

I expected him to call the idea naive. Most people would have.

Instead, he listened and started pointing out the practical problems I hadn’t considered.

"You’ll need food permits, transport arrangements, liability insurance, and employee registration. You’ll also need a fair lease and reliable suppliers. If the women aren’t used to dealing with outsiders, you need to get all of that sorted out before opening. Otherwise, a landlord or supplier will spot their inexperience and take advantage of them."

I looked at Leighton in surprise. He had become so sharp.

"I’m starting to think baking the cakes might be the easiest part," I admitted.

"It usually is."

"As it happens, commercial property is exactly what I’m working on here." Leighton leaned back in his chair. "I can look into the shop you’re interested in. And I can also introduce you to a property agent and a lawyer who won’t try to rob you blind."

My first instinct was to tell him I could handle it myself.

I could learn all of this on my own. But refusing good help just to prove I didn’t need it wasn’t independence. It was pride wearing a clever hat.

"All right. I’ll accept your help." I pointed my fork at him. Some things never changed. "But let’s be clear. The shop belongs to me and the women of Hollowthorn. Richie gets no say in how it’s run, no share of the profits, and it doesn’t become another item on the Lind family balance sheet. Understood?"

Leighton laughed and raised both hands.

"I’m offering advice, Emilia. I’m not buying you another future."

"Good. Because the last one didn’t fit."

After we finished eating, I took him to the empty storefront I’d found earlier.

Leighton read the rental notice on the window, then went around back to check the storage room and rear entrance. He seemed to know what to look for. After taking a few photos of the listing and address, he said he’d have someone investigate the property.

I placed a hand against the wide front window and peered inside, already picturing what it could become.

"A glass display case would go right there," I said. "The light comes straight through this window. The back room could become the kitchen. People would smell the honey cakes as soon as they walked in. The women who want to stay in town could do the baking. Those who want to explore could take turns working out front. They’d start with stocking shelves and wrapping boxes, then learn to talk to customers and handle sales."

I looked at the empty shop and smiled.

"A door they could always come home through."

When I turned, I realized Leighton wasn’t looking at the shop.

He was looking at me.

"You always did like giving people the choices no one ever gave you," he said.

I looked back at him.

There it was again, that strange mix of familiarity and distance. The Leighton I’d known needed me to protect him from the world. This one stood beside me with quiet confidence. He understood what I wanted to build and had the knowledge to help me make it happen.

I was happy for him. Truly.

But as I turned back to the window, already imagining the shop filled with people, I didn’t notice that his eyes were still on me.

"Send me whatever you find," I said.

"I will."

"Thank you, Leighton."

He smiled.

"Anytime, Emilia."