Chapter 2
Silas
Iwake up too early.
The lake house is quiet. Cold air seeps through the gap in the window I left open last night. My shoulders are tight from yesterday's drive, so I roll them back, then stand.
Too much sitting. Too much thinking.
I shower, dress, and head downstairs.
The coffee maker hisses in the kitchen. I pour a cup and drink it black, standing at the counter while the house stays silent around me.
Last night replays in my mind in fragments.
When Evan opened the door, I was expecting Ben and his kid sister. Instead, I got Ben and a woman I didn’t recognize.
I remember Tania Dalton as a gangly thirteen-year-old with braces and freckles scattered across her nose. Always quiet. Always two steps behind Ben, trying to keep up.
That’s not who walked through the door yesterday.
The woman who stood on our doorstep was small but not fragile. There are curves where there used to be sharp angles. The freckles are still there, but they’ve faded. No braces. Just a mouth I had no business noticing.
I noticed. So did Callum. So did Evan.
Ben still thinks of her as a kid. I should, too. Except I don’t, and that’s the problem.
Ben’s been my closest friend since we were eight years old. We built forts in his backyard and got drunk for the first time in my basement, and stood at my father’s funeral when he died last year. He’s the one person outside my brothers I trust without question.
There are lines you don’t cross with someone like that.
His sister is one of them.
I know that.
But even if Ben weren’t in the equation, even if Tania were some woman I met at a bar or a gallery opening or anywhere else, it wouldn’t matter.
Because I don’t get to want anyone freely anymore.
The inheritance clause saw to that.
My father’s death activated a clause that’s been buried in our inheritance contract for generations.
We have until our next birthday to comply.
Three months to find a woman we trust enough to hand our entire future to.
Then a year of proving it’s real before our lawyers can challenge the clause.
And every woman I meet from now until that deadline is either a solution or a distraction I can’t afford.
I drain the coffee and set the mug down harder than I mean to.
The stairs creak. Evan appears first with hair still damp from the shower. Then Callum comes downstairs, barefoot, restless already.
Evan grabs a mug. “Morning.”
Callum opens the fridge and stares into it, as if something will materialize. But we agreed not to bring a chef here this weekend. We want to relax without anybody else in our space.
Ben comes down next. Tania follows behind him, wearing a sweater that’s too big for her. Her red hair is pulled back, and the freckles across her nose are more visible because she is not wearing makeup. Fuck, she really is stunning.
She notices me by the counter, and her face brightens.
I smile.
Evan pours himself coffee. “Sleep okay?”
She pours herself some coffee and adds cream. “Yeah. The bed is huge.”
Callum smirks from the fridge. “Next time, bring a boyfriend. Test out the space.”
Ben shoots him a look.
I feel my jaw tighten before I can stop it. The idea of Tania bringing someone here—some guy I don’t know, touching her, and sleeping in the room across from mine. I don’t like it.
Tania sips her coffee, unbothered. “No boyfriend. I’m enjoying having the big bed to myself.”
The tension in my shoulders eases.
I don’t like that those words made me relax either. I shouldn’t care whether she has a boyfriend. I shouldn’t feel anything at all. So, I force my attention elsewhere.
By late morning, the temperature drops. Fall is in full swing, and the trees outside are half-stripped with leaves scattered across the deck.
Evan suggests a fire.
We move to the living room. Callum brings in logs from outside, and I stack kindling while Evan crumples newspaper.
Tania settles into the corner of the sectional with a book open on her lap, legs tucked under her.
She’s pretending not to pay attention to my brothers and me.
But she’s paying attention. She’s just as affected by seeing us as men as we are by seeing her as a woman.
The fire catches, and I stand and brace my hands on the mantel to feel the heat.
Evan sprawls on the couch with one arm draped over the back. Callum paces near the windows, fingers tapping against his thigh. Ben settles into the armchair.
For a while, no one talks. The fire popping, the wind pushing against the windows, and the lake moving beyond the glass are the only sounds that fill the room.
Tania turns a page in her book. Ben checks his phone. Callum stops at the window and stares out at the water.
Evan shifts and glances at Callum, then at me. “We need to talk about it.”
Callum stops pacing and turns. “No, we don’t. We just re-agreed we wouldn’t talk about the business at all last night.”
Evan sits forward. “You and Silas agreed, and ignoring it doesn’t make it go away.”
Callum resumes his circuit around the room. “Neither does talking about it.”
I stare into the fire. “We have three months until we turn thirty. So, it has to be resolved before then.”
Ben readjusts his posture. “You really think the executor won’t budge?”
“I know he won’t.” I know this because I’ve already tried.
The clause. It’s the thing that’s been keeping me awake at night since I learned about it.
My great-grandfather built the business that made our family rich. But he had two sons and one fortune. He watched other families tear themselves apart through divided inheritance, competing heirs, and fractured legacies.
So he wrote a clause, and that has affected every generation’s inheritance since.
Both of his sons had to formally commit to the same woman and raise their children as one family unit.
It worked.
The next generation consolidated. One man was technically our grandfather; the other, our great-uncle. But we never made the distinction. They were both grandfathers.
Our father was an only child, so the clause didn’t apply to him.
But it stayed in the contract. And when our father died last year, the clause activated.
For us.
Ben straightens in his chair. “Explain it to me again. Because I still don’t understand how it’s legal.”
I glance at Tania. She’s still holding her book, but she’s not reading. She’s listening.
“Tania.” I look at her, waiting for her to make eye contact.
She meets my gaze.
“This doesn’t leave this room.” I tilt my head and raise a brow. “Understand?”
She sets the book down, folding her hands on top of it. Her spine straightens. “Okay.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I can hear she means it. “You’re like family. Your secrets are safe with me.”
I hold her gaze for another second. Then nod.
I turn from the fire. “It’s an inheritance contract. Conditional transfer of assets. The estate holds the fortune until we meet the terms or petition for removal.”
Ben leans back. “Right.”
“What are the terms?” Tania asks.
“Exclusive, legally binding domestic commitment to one woman. We have to live together and prove we’re serious about it long-term. No one else on the side. And the executor has to sign off on it.”
Ben shakes his head. “For how long?”
“It’s supposed to be permanent. But after a year of proving we’re compliant, our lawyers think we might be able to challenge it. We can petition to have the clause nullified without losing everything. No guarantees. But it’s the only way out we’ve found.”
Callum stops at the windows and turns to face us. “Or we give up our inheritance.”
I meet his eyes. “We’re not doing that.”
He crosses his arms. “Why not? I don’t want to share a girlfriend with my brothers. I didn’t ask for this.”
I exhale. “Neither did I.”
“Then why are we even considering this?” Callum raises his voice, and I don’t blame him. “It’s so fucked up.”
“Because walking away means losing everything.” I step away from the mantel and feel the tension in my shoulders, the weight in my chest. “The company’s leveraged.
Our personal assets are tied to the estate.
If we walk away, we lose everything to some distant cousin or whoever is next in line, who will actually agree to this nonsense. ”
Silence.
Callum turns back to the window.
Evan sits up. “What if we found someone we already trust?”
Callum laughs, bitter. “Like who?”
“Someone who won’t screw us over.” Evan taps the armrest once. “I mean, we could even pay her for the trouble.”
Ben shakes his head and half-smiles. “You need someone trustworthy, believable, and desperate enough to agree to a year of pretending to be in a relationship with all three of you.” He pauses. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, asshole.” Callum’s light smile in return takes the edge off of his words.
Then Ben laughs. “I mean, hell, the only person I’d trust in that situation is Tania.”
Callum’s head snaps toward Ben. Evan blinks.
I don’t move.
Ben keeps going. “I’m serious. She’d never screw you over. She’s family. And she’s off-limits, so there’s no risk of anyone actually falling for her and making it messy.” He grins like it’s the funniest thing he’s said all day.
Evan laughs and shakes his head.
I don’t.
Because Ben’s right.
Trust issue? Solved.
Tania wouldn’t betray us. She’s known us most of her life. She’s loyal. Honest. Grounded.
Public believability? Solved.
She’s beautiful. Educated. Comfortable around wealth without being defined by it. No one would question it.
Legal optics? Solved.
The executor needs proof we’re stable and committed. That we’re unified. And pretending to be in a relationship with Tania could fix this whole dilemma.
Ben won’t agree to this. That’s the only problem that matters.
But my brain won’t stop running the calculation.
I glance at the sectional. Tania’s book is closed on her lap. Her hands are folded over it. She’s staring at the fire silently.
Callum catches my eye from across the room and grins. “You know, that’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Ben laughs.
“I mean, she’s perfect for it,” Callum continues.
I don’t interject, waiting to see how Ben reacts.
His laugh fades. “Wait. You’re joking, right?”
Callum raises both hands. “Obviously.”
“Because she’s my sister.”
Evan nods. “Right. Off-limits. Got it.”
Ben pushes up from his chair. “I’m going to make lunch.”
Callum moves to the fire and picks up the poker, prodding the logs. “You’re thinking about it.” He keeps his voice low enough that Ben can’t hear him.
I don’t answer.
Evan stretches his arm across the back of the couch. “You are. I can see it.”
“It’s not an option.”
Callum sets the poker down and turns. “Why not?”
“Because Ben would kill us.”
Evan stands. “Let’s table this. We’ve got time.”
Callum heads to the kitchen. Evan follows. I stay by the fire. And Tania hasn’t moved.
She lifts her head and pauses, waiting for me to say something.
I don’t.
Then she stands, picks up the book from the couch, and walks past me toward the stairs.
I watch her go.
The problem isn’t whether it would work. The problem is, I already know it would.