17. Silas
Silas
L uca was the first to arrive, and as soon as his eyes landed on Lauren, a half-smile of disdain tugged at the corner of his mouth. Classic Luca—he can irritate you without even opening his mouth.
Oliver showed up next, his Texan charm all over the place. He greeted Lauren like he greets everyone he meets for the first time, warmly, but the three of us know that’s not how he really feels. He’s just that good at pretending.
And then there’s Killian … well, let’s just say he breezed in like he always does, not a care in the world. He doesn’t give a damn about who I bring home, or what’s happening in my life. To be fair, Lauren is the first woman I’ve ever brought to a family Christmas, so I guess he’s not used to it.
During lunch, the group dynamic plays out exactly as I expect. My family, as always, zeroes in on Lauren, finding her the perfect source of entertainment. The questions start out light, but as soon as they edge toward the personal, I jump in and steer the conversation away, not giving them the chance to dig too deep. My father sits at the head of the table, watching everything like a hawk. My mother is on his left, and I’m on his right, with Lauren beside me. Oliver is next to her, while Luca sits across from Lauren, next to Mom. Killian, as usual, is wedged somewhere between amusement and indifference, sitting beside Luca.
What surprises me is how kind my mother is to Lauren. I chalk it up to appearances—Lauren looks like she could easily pass for the stereotypical daughter of a millionaire. Her blonde hair is glossy, her petite frame draped in a shirt that looks effortlessly expensive, fitting her perfectly.What’s shocking is that none of my siblings seem to be drooling over the table. For my brothers, that’s a first. But I know better. This is my mother’s world—appearances, prestigious zip codes, and fat bank accounts are all that matter. Lauren fits into her mold, and that’s likely why she’s acting so welcoming.
“How are you adjusting to the office, Lauren?” my father asks, cutting a piece of meat and taking a casual bite, his eyes fixed on her.
“ Office ? Are you an architect, Lauren?” my mother interrupts, not giving Lauren a second to answer.
“Mom,” I interject quickly, taking control of this conversation before it veers too far. “Lauren is my executive assistant.”
“Oh.” There it is— the disappointment in Mary Walker’s voice. “But you said she was your friend .”
“She is,” I say, glancing at Lauren, curious to see how she handles this little test my family is putting her through. If she can survive this round, I might just end up marrying her .
“But she’s also my assistant. We’ve known each other for many years, and she’s covering for Stella.”
I catch Luca hiding a smirk behind his wineglass. Lauren gives a polite, albeit tense, smile and shifts her focus back to my father. “Well, thank you for asking,” she says, her tone graceful, despite my mother’s less-than-subtle display of disapproval.
“Is this your first time working in real estate?” my father asks, clearly intrigued.
“Oh, no,” Lauren says, placing her cutlery neatly on her plate, giving my father her full attention. “I’ve worked with several companies, like Johnson’s and Knox she’s a universe, I think to myself, and reducing her to mere physicality makes my stomach turn. “I said not to worry, Dad,” I respond, my tone sharper than usual, locking eyes with him.
My father looks at me challengingly, as if daring me to cross a line, but I don’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I down the whiskey in one swift motion, feeling the burn.
We never had a close relationship with our parents. I’ve always suspected that my father sees the four of us more as a legacy for the company than as his children. He treats me like I’m just another employee, a subordinate, and I resent him for it. Growing up, I needed a father, not a distant boss. But that was never an option.
My siblings are watching me closely now. I’ve never raised my voice in this house, never openly defied my father, but for Lauren, I realize I’m capable of things I never thought I’d do.
“And you,” I say, pointing directly at Killian, “stop flirting with her.”
Killian raises his hands in mock surrender, wisely staying quiet. He knows better than to mess with me when I’m like this. Luca, sensing the tension, clears his throat and smoothly shifts the conversation to a new project he’s working on in Miami. It’s a smart move, one that will pull my father’s attention away from me and back to what matters most to him—money. I’ll have to thank Luca for that later.
Lauren and my mom finally arrive for dinner, their arms overflowing with an absurd number of shopping bags. I quickly step over to help, grabbing as many as I can to relieve them of their load.
“What’s all this?” I ask, setting the bags down on the kitchen table, and eyeing the pile of designer logos .
“Oh, you know how much I love Christmas shopping,” my mom says with a wave of her hand, casually downplaying the mountain of top-brand bags like it’s nothing.
I lean in close to Lauren, gently taking her arm, and ask in a whisper, “Are you okay?” I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her until she was standing right in front of me again.
Damn, I missed her.
“Yes.” She smiles softly, and for a moment, I just want to pull her closer. “Do you think I could take a shower before dinner?”
“That depends,” I say, suddenly serious.
She frowns. “On what?”
“On whether I can join you or not.”
Lauren gives me a playful shove, and I laugh a little too loudly, drawing my mom’s attention. Her eyes narrow as she watches us closely, but thankfully, she doesn’t catch what I said.
Dinner goes surprisingly well—no awkward questions, no suspicious glances, and thank God, no more winks from Killian aimed at Lauren.
When Lauren heads off to bed, I don’t exactly rush after her, but I walk quickly enough that my parents shoot me a couple of odd looks. I ignore them and catch up with her just as she starts up the stairs, a step ahead of me. She looks exhausted, clearly ready to turn in for the night.
“Lauren,” I call softly, and she turns, her tired eyes meeting mine. “If you want me to sleep in another room, that’s fine. I know the situation with my mom and the rooms wasn’t exactly funny for you. I can always bunk with one of my brothers.”
She listens closely, her expression calm, but then I see it—a flicker of something like disappointment in her eyes. My heart skips a beat, not from stress this time, but from pure excitement.
“Is there space somewhere else?” she asks, glancing over my shoulder as if already scouting out the alternatives.
“Yes, don’t worry,” I say, trying to force a casual smile, even though I can’t hide my own disappointment. Sleeping under the same roof as Lauren and not sharing a bed feels like torture .
She leans in and kisses my cheek softly. “Good night, Silas.”
And with that, she disappears up the stairs, leaving me standing there, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.