24. Silas
Chapter 24
Silas
The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished hardwood floors of her bedroom.
“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” I announce, my voice steady despite the strain.
I stand at the doorway to her bedroom, my reflection barely visible in the mirrored closet doors.
Ava lies on top of the king-sized nest, her slender form hidden by the crisp white duvet and the hundreds of blankets and cushions.
She doesn’t look at me as she responds, “I’m not hungry.”
I hold back a growl.
Since our discussion at the beach, the air is thick with tension. It’s a familiar sensation that settles on my shoulders.
I sigh, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “We made a deal. You got extra privileges, and Max got to have dinner with you. Now get ready.”
She sits up in the nest, her piercing gaze finally meeting mine. “I’ll come for dinner if you tell me how he knows the baby is his.” A pause, then, “Why isn’t it yours?”
My jaw clenches. “I can’t tell you that.”
“He made you have a vasectomy,” she says matter-of-factly.
The words hit like a physical blow. “I have a child. I don’t need more children,” I retort, my voice harder than ever. “Now get ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, she walks into the dining room. It’s a testament to Max’s refined taste and wealth.
A crystal chandelier hangs from the coffered ceiling, its light dancing off the polished surface of a long marble table. To my right, the same black marble surrounds the fireplace and dominates one wall.
Behind Max, floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of uninterrupted blue water, while carefully placed artwork covers the walls.
And despite how much wealth is in this room, his eyes are only on her as her hips sway as she strides toward the table.
Despite her simmering anger, her natural beauty is undimmed. Her face is absent of makeup. Her porcelain skin is virtually flawless, only a light dusting of freckles across her nose breaks the color.
Long, brunette hair falls in loose waves past her shoulders. But it’s her eyes that are mesmerizing, the same color blue as the surrounding sea.
The first day I met her, I knew they held secrets, but today only sorrow swims in her gaze.
Despite everything, our past, the things I’ve now shared with her, I still find myself drawn to her, not that I’ll ever tell her.
My attraction is an unwelcome reminder of what I lost.
I force myself to look away—I can’t trust myself around her. Because I’m not sure if I want to kiss her or kill her.
Max sits at the head of the table, his presence commanding the room. At forty-two years old, he’s much older than Ava and a decade my senior, but you’d never tell.
Dark hair, perfectly styled, frames a face that’s handsome despite the lines of age. Well-groomed stubble covers his firm jaw, giving him a rugged edge that I never see off this island.
“You made it,” Max says, his pale blue eyes sharp and calculating as they train on Ava while she takes her seat.
“It appears I did,” Ava replies coolly, her voice carrying a hint of defiance.
“Don’t be insolent.”
I watch the exchange silently, tension coiling in my gut. The air in the room feels charged, like the moment before a lightning strike.
Max’s lips curl into a smirk. “I’m glad you honored our agreement. It would have been unfortunate if you hadn’t.”
“Unfortunate.” Ava’s aqua blue eyes flash dangerously as she strokes her stomach. “It sounds to me as though you are threatening the mother of your child. Yet, it’s this child who will be unfortunate when he or she lives a sad, lonely life on this island with two sad, lonely men.”
I resist the urge to flinch at her barb. Max, however, seems unfazed.
“Now, now, darling,” he chides, his tone patronizing. “Let’s not ruin this lovely dinner with unpleasantries.”
“Lovely?” Ava laughs sardonically. “Is that what we’re calling this farce? Making me eat dinner with you. Why? Why does it matter?”
I can see Max’s jaw tighten, a subtle tell that his patience is wearing thin. “Watch your tone, Ava. Remember your place.”
There’s hurt in her eyes; tension in her shoulders, and I just sit here, saying nothing.
The air crackles with hostility. I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Ava leans forward, her voice low and dangerous. “This is not my place. You seem to have forgotten you kidnapped me. And I’m more than happy for you to take me home.”
“This is your home,” I say much too quickly. I’m not ready for my daughter to not have Ava in her life, regardless of how she makes me feel.
Max’s eyes narrow, a predatory gleam in their pale depths. “Is the Omega needy? Do you need knotting?”
The words hang in the air, heavy and ominous. I watch as Ava’s face pales and her hands clench into fists beneath the table. Then she glares at him, disgust clear on the purse of her lips. “Not by you.”
A cruel smile plays on Max’s lips as he replies, “You’re perfuming. Which means you’re lying.”
I don't know what's eating Max, but the dinner, I realize, is about to become a battlefield.
“My fingers are enough,” Ava seethes. Her teeth clenched as the door at the back of the room opens and we’re saved from the argument going any further when a team of silent, efficient servers bring out the first course, which is a delicate lobster bisque.
Ava nibbles on her food, slowly savoring every mouthful but not once glancing at me or Max. And as the meal progresses, she’s quieter than before. In fact, her demeanor has changed completely.
Gone is the defiant young woman from earlier. Now she’s lost in a world of her own. A world which is subdued and guarded.
“Where’s Lily?” Ava turns to me and asks.
After our conversation earlier today, I’m happy she’s asked. I thought she might stay away from her.
She still might.
“She has her bath at six o’clock sharp. I read her a book, and then she’s asleep by seven.”
She gives me a small smile. Her eyes remain on mine when her teeth dig into her lip.
“I’m sorry about your wife.” She swallows. “I thought she’d left you and Lily, but I realized afterwards that she’d died. And …” She glances at the ceiling and then back at me. “I’ll do anything I can for Lily while I’m here.”
“You’ve done enough.” I don’t mean for them to, but my words sound harsher than they should, and come out much quicker than I wanted.
“I understand.” Her shoulders sag as she stares at the food on her plate and pushes it around.
The rest of dinner doesn’t get any better. It remains stilted and tense.
Max calms down and he attempts to engage Ava in small talk, asking about her day and her recent activities, but her responses are no longer sassy. Now they are monosyllabic and disinterested.
I contribute occasionally, trying to keep the atmosphere from becoming too oppressive, though between Max and me, I know it’s too late. I know she’ll never choose to stay now.
Why the fuck would she want to?
We’ve hardly made her life better. Max and I are so fucking stuck in the past. Neither of us are truly fighting for a future with her. Despite wanting it.
Suddenly, Ava breaks her silence. “I’ve been wondering about the Circle of Life jewel,” she says, her voice soft but clear. “Is it fake?”
“What makes you think that?” Max asks.
“You’ve never asked about it.”
Max’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth. “It’s not important,” he says dismissively.
“Not important!” Ava’s eyes narrow slightly. “Why not? It’s worth two hundred and fifty million dollars.”
“I’m sure it’s well hidden. Maybe in one of the two safes on your boat.” Max lets her know how much we already know about her.
She quirks an eyebrow and smirks. “I might have sold it and put the money in a secret offshore bank account.”
“I doubt it,” Max tells her. “You might be a thief, but you’re an honorable one. You’ll finish the deal.”
“The deal.”
“In nine months, you can keep it. You can sell it. You’ll be worth a hell of a lot of money once the baby is born. And it gives you a reason to stay here.”
There’s a ripple on her throat as she swallows deeply. “You could have paid a surrogate, I don’t know, maybe a few hundred thousand. You’re giving me a few hundred million for a baby.” Her voice seems to get higher and higher with every word. “Why?”
“You’re worth more,” Max replies, his gaze intense.
“The baby, you mean?” Ava challenges.
Max stares at her. There’s a mix of surprise and calculation in his pale blue eyes before he says. “It could only ever be your baby.”
All of his words hang in the air like a revelation, but none more than the way he said ‘your’ with so much emphasis.
Ava’s eyes widen, genuine surprise flickering across her face. For a moment, her carefully constructed mask slips, revealing a vulnerability that’s rarely seen. Her lips part slightly, as if to speak, but no words come out.
As the shock of Max’s statement washes over her, her scent fills the room with an intoxicating intensity. The spicy but citrus notes mixed with something uniquely her—alcohol and it floods my senses, making it impossible to ignore.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my body betraying me as my cock awakens, responding to her potent aroma.
Under my breath, I grunt and then clench my jaw, fighting against the primal urge that threatens to overwhelm me.
Ava’s cheeks flush, a soft pink blooming across her porcelain skin. Her blue eyes, still wide with surprise, darting between Max and me as she searches for words, her usual quick wit momentarily deserting her.
A smile plays on Max’s lips as he leans back in his chair. Exaggerating the motion, he closes his eyes as he inhales deeply, obviously savoring Ava’s scent.
“Don’t do that.” She twitches nervously.
The air in the room is now charged with a potent mixture of pheromones and unspoken tensions.
Max is reveling in it. His pale blue eyes glitter with satisfaction as he watches her reaction.
“Well, well,” he purrs, his voice low and filled with dark amusement. “It seems our little omega is perfuming for her alphas. I thought you'd find a way to prevent it.”
Ava’s surprise quickly changes into something else.
Anger tinged with an undercurrent of undeniable fear.
She opens her mouth to retort, but Max cuts her off with a raised hand.
“Ava, darling, let’s not spoil this moment with unnecessary words. Your scent tells us everything we need to know.”
I watch as Ava’s hands grasp her skirt underneath the table; her knuckles turning white before she pushes her chair back and strides to his chair, lowers her face and hisses, “I’m not your darling.”
Then she turns on her heels and marches out of the room to Max’s laughter.