Chapter 14 Silas
SILAS
The top two floors of the Oasis Tower building are taken up by Hart & Fox Enterprises. I ride the elevator to the top, watching the lights of the city below through the glass walled elevator. It’s after ten o’clock on Friday night, and the building is empty.
Sly himself will be heading back to Sinistral tonight.
Big night tomorrow. The Fox annual masquerade ball will be back for the first time since the shit hit the fan with Hart.
I’m sure Sly is anxious to get there and collect all those congratulations, the pats on the back, the nods of we knew it couldn’t be you bullshit because up until Horatio Hart took the plea deal and confessed to it all, those same people kept their distance from Sly Fox, not wanting to be ensnared in his web.
“Cecilia just emailed the last of the paperwork,” Nigella says, and I turn to her, having almost forgotten she was there.
“Good,” I say, adjusting my tie and checking the time. “Once we get his signature, you’ll head back to Atlanta and finalize everything.”
She nods.
“I appreciate the hours you’re putting in, Nigella. Especially given the time of year.”
“I know this is important to you, Silas. What about you? When will you head home?”
I shift my gaze to the elevator doors as the bell dings and the doors begin to open.
“Not sure. I may just stay here and work through the holiday,” I say. No one to go back for. Mom’s gone. It’ll be my first Christmas without her.
I’m looking straight ahead, but I can see Nigella studying me.
“Let’s get this done.” I say, buttoning my suit jacket, stepping off the elevator and heading through the empty office toward the door at the far corner. I glance at what was once Hart’s corner office and see his name has already been scraped off the door, replaced by Ethan Fox’s.
My hands clench and unclench. I hear Sly’s voice as an older woman opens the office door, head down reading a file. She doesn’t see us right away.
“This week, Ethan. You do it this week,” Sly says.
“You saw how skittish she was. She’s not going to go for it.”
“Well, that’s for you to figure out, isn’t it? I can’t hand you everything on a silver fucking platter. Do not fuck this up.”
Sly Fox is a bully. Always has been. Always will be. Even to Ethan. I contemplate the question of nature vs. nurture. If he’d been kinder to Ethan, would Ethan be less of a shit now?
The woman closes the door and turns, gasping when she sees us. “Oh, goodness. You’re quiet.”
“Didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am,” I say. “Mr. Fox is expecting us. Silas Cruz.”
Her eyes skip between mine, and I know she knows I’m Sly’s son even though he has only acknowledged Ethan as such.
“Of course. Just a moment.”
“Let them in,” comes Sly’s voice before the woman has even knocked on the door.
I nod to the woman in thanks and walk into the office to find Sly leaning back in his chair, feet up on his desk, looking casual and relaxed. It’s an act. Ethan is standing at the window sipping on a whiskey and giving me a death glare.
I think about Ophelia the other night. What she said. Of course, they’ve been intimate. I know that. Why it bothers me now, though, is what I’m trying to make sense of.
“Would either of you gentlemen like something to drink?” Sly’s assistant asks.
Ethan snorts, mutters something about the use of the word gentlemen.
“They’re fine,” Sly says. “Close the door behind you, Lydia.”
“Yes, sir, good night,” Lydia says and leaves.
Sly’s eyes never leave mine as he straightens up and puts his dirty shoes on the floor. I take a seat. Nigella sets her briefcase on his desk and opens it.
“Silas. Heard about Esmerelda’s passing. My condolences.”
“Keep them.”
“No reason we can’t be polite.”
“I’m not here to be polite. I’m here to lend you the money that’s going to keep Hart & Fox Enterprises afloat.”
“At rates of a loan shark,” Sly says with a smile.
“You can get your money from the bank if you prefer,” I say, standing. “Oh wait, they won’t lend to you.”
“Sit down, Silas. Fucking dramatic.” He shakes his head.
Ethan snorts again, refreshes his whiskey.
“Don’t be rude, Ethan. Offer our guests a drink,” Sly tells Ethan.
I look over at him, seeing Ophelia every time I do. Hating that he’s had his hands on her.
Ethan carries the whiskey over along with two glasses and slams them down on the desk.
“Careful, son. That’s expensive shit,” I say, pouring a glass for myself when Nigella declines.
Ethan grits his teeth but a glance from Dad, and he keeps his mouth shut. They need me—and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.
Nigella lays out the paperwork. “I have the NDA, which we’ll need both your signatures on,” she says. “Followed by the contract you already reviewed.”
Sly pulls the NDA over, picks up a pen and skims the document, his mouth a sneer.
“Was it you?” he asks, as he turns the page.
“Was what me?”
“The Hart house. You outbid me?”
“Maybe,” I say, and yes, I did, partly to be a dick because Mira has been eyeing taking over both plots of land.
Probably wants to build an atrocity of a mansion.
For all the money she has, her taste is shit.
Partly, though, I did it for Ophelia. I didn’t like the idea of the house she grew up being leveled by the Foxes.
Sly signs the NDA, then holds the pen out to Ethan, who comes over. “Gave me a fucking headache having to listen to Mira whine about it. Why are you so fucking petty, Silas? Why bite the hand that feeds you?” Sly asks.
“Fed. Past tense. And we paid for every fucking morsel.”
“What the hell are you going to do with it anyway? I can’t imagine you want to be anywhere near that place. Too many memories, right? And since Phee and Ethan are tying the knot soon, well, it’d just be awkward for everyone.”
“Maybe he’s going to make a wedding gift out of it, Dad. For O. Never did get over your thing for her, did you?”
I bite my tongue comforted by the thought that no way she comes for him like she did for me. No fucking way.
Nigella clears her throat, then points to where Ethan needs to sign the NDA. “This binds all of us here from disclosing any information at all about this loan.”
“Phee know you bought the house?” Sly asks.
“Never said I did.” I sign my part of the document before Nigella puts it away and takes out the second.
Sly scans it as he speaks. “You forget I know how you operate.” He flips through the pages, irritated, until Nigella points to where he needs to sign. He scratches his name on the contract then looks up at me. “You are my son, after all.”
Ethan’s glare is a laser on my brain.
“Don’t say that too loud, Dad. Don’t want to upset my kid brother here.” I vomit a little in my mouth to say the words dad and brother in reference to the Foxes.
I take the pen from Nigella and sign the contract that will, if my gamble pays off and I think it will, hand me controlling shares of Hart & Fox Enterprises.
I just have to be patient a little while longer.
I do wish Mom was alive so she could see the Foxes toppled, but she’s not, and honestly, maybe it’s better this way.
I’m not sure she’d be very happy with what I’m doing, the way I’m doing it.
She was always too good, too kind, for this world.
Ethan reaches for the contract but I stop him. “No need for you to sign this one, kid. The big boys will handle it.”
He looks to his father as if to confirm what I’m saying. Sly nods once. Annoyed, Ethan tosses the pen on the desk. “Nose never did heal right, did it?” he says, eyeing my nose, which had healed back crooked after the beating Sly gave me.
I ignore him. His petty remarks are simply a sign of weakness.
“Everything is signed, as you required. Your turn, Silas,” Sly says. He raises his eyebrows.
Nigella stamps the contract, puts it into her briefcase and closes it, then gives me a nod. I fish my phone out of my pocket.
“Not sure you heard, Silas, but wedding invites go out this weekend. Do we have your latest address?” Ethan asks.
I clench my jaw, initiate the transfer. There is only one thing keeping me from killing the little prick.
“No need.” Confirmation of the transfer flashes across the screen and at the same time, Sly’s phone buzzes. He picks it up, confirms the funds are in his account, and stands. “I hear the bride-to-be is a little skittish,” I say, keeping my face expressionless.
Sly’s gaze narrows on me while Ethan’s shifts between me and his father and back. His hands fist, and I swear smoke blows out of his nose when he exhales. I’d say he looks like a fucking Pitbull, except that would be an insult to Pitbulls.
“Hope you got a solid prenup in place. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, well you know what they say. You don’t want to get swindled out of another several million by another Hart.”
“No prenup. I trust her,” Ethan says, grinning like he just won the fucking lottery.
“Shut the fuck up, Ethan,” Sly says. I raise my eyebrows, turn to him.
“While your concern for our welfare is touching, it’s really none of your business, Silas.
Ophelia Hart is none of your business, not anymore.
I know you had a thing for protecting her growing up, but those days are over.
” My jaw ticks and I know Sly doesn’t miss it, but he, unlike his son, is too controlled to give anything away.
“While we’re doling out free advice, though, I’ll give you some.
Stay away from Horatio Hart. He’s a criminal and a con and he’ll con you just like he did me. ”
“Thanks, Dad, appreciate that.” I check my watch. “Gotta go. Need to get my tux for the big shindig.”
“You stay away from Phee, Silas. I mean it,” Sly says.
“Or what? You’ll expect me to stand there and take another beating? Those days are long gone, Sly,” I say, throwing his words back at him.
“There are much more effective ways to punish you, Silas.” I hear the threat but don’t quite get it until he speaks his next words. “No more private little meetings, understood?”
Does he know she came to see me? Which one of us is he having followed? If it’s her, does he know she went to see her father?
“What private meetings?” Ethan asks while Sly and I stare each other down, and I understand that Ethan doesn’t know.
“I wish I knew what the hell you were talking about,” I say and check my watch, weirdly calm, and turn to leave, Nigella just a step behind me.
Sly Fox is up to something and this time, it involves Ophelia, and she is most definitely my business.