Chapter 13 Silas
SILAS
Present Day
Nigella and I are in a meeting with business associates in the dining room of The Sinistral when a commotion at the restaurant’s entrance interrupts us.
Every head in the room turns to see what’s going on and I watch Ophelia Hart scan the room as the hostess looks nervously in the direction of my table.
“It’s fine. I see him,” Ophelia says. Even from here, I can see the angry gleam in her eye.
I stand, clearing my throat and buttoning my suit jacket. “If you’ll excuse me, Nigella can take care of the rest of the details.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ophelia demands when I intercept her a few feet from my table.
I take her by the elbow and lead her through the crowded restaurant and out into the lobby of the boutique hotel.
“I asked you a question,” she repeats, calling the attention of everyone there. Not that I care, but she might.
“Finally visit your father? How is Horatio?”
“As if you don’t know. What were you thinking? Why would you tell him about the engagement?”
I shrug a shoulder, knowing it will irritate the fuck out of her. “I just assumed he knew. I mean, your daughter gets engaged, it’s not normally a secret. It’s been what? A year now?”
“How dare you insert yourself into my business!”
“The Foxes are my business. As long as you’re aligned with them, you’re in the crosshairs, which makes you my business. I told you to watch yourself with them.”
“I don’t need your advice. Let me go!”
I don’t. “You’re out of your league.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not worried about you.” I hear my own lie but I haven’t forgotten what Ophelia Hart did to me. The night we spent together. The morning after. I will never forget, and I will never forgive.
“Right. Let me go.”
“No.”
“Why do you care anyway? I know exactly how you feel about me.”
“You know nothing. Let’s go. We’re not doing this here.”
“We’re not doing anything. I just came to tell you to stay out of my business. I’m done.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done. Let’s go.”
“No.”
I gesture around the lobby. “Do you think your fiancé will be curious about our little tête-à-tête? Not to mention other nocturnal visits.” That last part is uncalled for, I know, but I can’t help myself.
“He wasn’t my…” she trails off, almost growling with frustration before finally taking notice of how quiet it’s grown. She glances around. “Fuck you, Silas Cruz,” she hisses before turning toward the elevator the bellman already has waiting for us.
I follow her. “There she is. There’s Barbie. Foxes must be proud of you.”
She glares at me over her shoulder. I insert my key which will send the elevator directly to the penthouse.
She folds her arms across her chest and stares straight ahead, her hands fisted.
When the elevator doors slide open, she steps out, her heels clicking on the polished marble floors as she enters.
She looks around, taking in the opulence, the luxury detailed in every cushion, every curated piece of furniture a piece of art.
“You’ve come up in the world, haven’t you?” she asks.
“As you’ve gone down, sweetheart,” I say, pouring myself a whiskey. “Drink?”
“No.”
“Might make you nicer.”
“I don’t need to be nice. Not to you. I don’t know who you think you are or what it is you’re playing at, but what you did? Things are complicated enough without you meddling, Silas.”
“Meddling?” I set my drink down, take her arms and move her backward until her back is pressed to the wall. “Tell me something, Barbie. Was I meddling when I saved your ass that night at the bar?”
She tries to break free, but I raise her arms over her head, pin her wrists to the wall with one of mine.
“Was I meddling when I kept your fucking secret after what we did?”
“I wasn’t hiding anything.”
“No? So, you would have been happy to tell your fiancé that you spent the night in my bed? Oh wait, I didn’t know you were fucking engaged until the morning after, did I?” I say, vitriol in every word.
“You never even gave me a chance to explain.”
“Explain what? What was there to explain?” We’re near shouting now, both of us.
“We weren’t engaged, you asshole! Not then.” She shoves me away, tries to move past, but I grab her arm and don’t let go.
Stunned, I stare at her, sure I missed a beat. “What?”
She just shakes her head. “Fuck you!”
“Explain yourself,” I demand.
“Now you want to listen?”
“Fucking explain.”
“I hadn’t said yes, Silas. I hadn’t accepted.
That’s what I tried to tell you, but you were busy, weren’t you?
” Her eyes fill up and all I can do is stare, dumbfounded.
“You were busy telling me what a whore I was!” She wipes at the tears that spill, the hurt in her eyes twisting something in my gut. My chest.
I step back. “You had a ring.”
“I hadn’t said yes.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You’re lying.” I walk away, pick up my whiskey and down it.
“Why would I bother? Why would I fucking bother to lie to you now?”
I pour myself another drink, keeping my back to her. It’s not true. She’s backtracking, trying to make herself look better.
“What’s the matter, Silas? Are you out of insults?”
I face her. “You had the damn engagement ring. Why would you have that if you weren’t engaged? Or are you going to tell me it was a friendship ring?” I ask that last part dismissively, trying to catch up—because if she’s telling the truth, I fucked up.
“Was it on my finger?” she asks, glaring.
“Ethan asked me to marry him earlier that night. If you recall, it’s the same night news broke about a new development that didn’t exactly look great for my dad.
It was one of the worst nights of my life, and that was even before you turned up…
Ethan’s timing, it couldn’t have been worse.
But you know Ethan. Do you think he would accept anything but a yes? ”
“That’s not up to him!” I break in, stalking so fast toward her that she backs away, and I remember how I’d held her against the wall that morning. Me, a man twice her size. I remember the look in her eyes.
“Maybe that’s the problem, Silas. Maybe I’m just weak. But you know what? I needed you that night. And I thought… I fucking thought you maybe needed me and we could… We could rescue each other. God! It’s so stupid. I don’t even know what I was thinking!” She pushes her hands into her hair.
“O—” I take her arms.
“I told him yes after. I agreed to marry him the morning you walked out.” Her mouth is set, eyes hard, even as tears stream down her face. “What’s the matter? Do I disappoint you again?”
I shake my head. “Is this true?”
“I don’t care what you believe anymore. The time that I cared is long gone, Silas.” She walks toward the elevator and pushes the button.
“I went to see your father because it’s not right that he should be behind bars while Sullivan Fox walks free. Your father would not have stolen from the company he built, from the people he spent his life taking care of. The company that would have been his legacy.”
She jams her finger on the button, but it’s still in the lobby. “You know what? I don’t care why you saw him. I don’t even care that you told him.”
The elevator begins its climb up. “Wait.”
“No.” She leans on that button.
“I went to offer my help.”
“Your help? Right!”
“And do you know what he asked me to do?”
She faces me. “Hear me, Silas. For once, fucking hear me. I. Do. Not. Care!” She spins to face away from me, so I go to her, take her arm, make her look at me.
I’m so close, I smell her perfume, the same one she wore that night.
The one that, if I breathe in deeply, I let myself imagine I can still smell on my pillowcase.
“He told me not to let you marry that son-of-a-bitch.” She stares up at me as the elevator climbs ever closer. Time is running out. And I fucked up. “Do you remember what I told you when you were sixteen? The night I found you in his bed?”
Her gaze searches mine, and I know she remembers.
“I told you that you can do better. Told you not to change who you are for Ethan Fox.” I hold up a lock of her hair, blown straight and smooth.
“You’re more beautiful with your glasses and your hair wild, O.
This? Barbie here? She’s a mirror image of Mira Fox and I’m afraid the inside will be just as cold if you don’t get away from them.
Because that night with you? That night meant something to me.
That’s why it hurt so fucking much when I found that ring in your pocket,” I finish.
I’m not sure if I intended to say that last part or not, but the look on her face softens.
I cup the back of her head and press my lips to hers, hearing her little sound of protest. Her hands are fists against my chest, but I hold tight, and I kiss her because ever since that night almost a year ago, I cannot get this goddamned woman out of my mind.
“Stop. Stop it!” She shoves and when I release her, she takes two steps away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “It meant nothing to me, Silas,” she says, but I swear I hear the effort it takes.
“That’s a lie, and you and I, we’re better than that.”
“There is no you and I, no we, Silas. Maybe things would have been different if you hadn’t been such an asshole that morning but that’s over. It’s too late.”
“No.” I take her arms, kiss her again.
“I hate you,” she says against my mouth before I pry her lips open, taste her tongue but retreat quickly before she bites. I know she will. Weaving my fingers into her hair, I tug her head backward, look at her eyes, which are wells of water. Her pulse is racing at her throat.
“That’s a lie.” I close my mouth over hers, swallowing her protest. “I don’t think you hate me. Not even a little bit.”
“I do.”
“I remember how you looked when you came. I think about it often.”
“Stop.”
“How you called my name.”
She drops her head down, and I cup her face with both hands, set my mouth against her forehead.