Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Silas
When Anthea thanked me, biting her lip, her guard slipping just enough to reveal a softness that made my throat go dry.
I almost didn't stop myself from kissing her right then.
She had no idea the man she was thanking was the same one who'd broken into her apartment, violated her, and come on her face. Adorable.
After that, I didn't bother making excuses to linger.
I left. Our current relationship wasn't solid enough for her to say yes, and I didn't want to push too hard.
But when she stood at the door watching me leave, I knew my strategy was working.
She wasn't bristling with defenses anymore, wasn't fighting me like before—even though she definitely still hated me.
I sat in the car, corner of my mouth still turned up, satisfaction swelling in my chest. Then my phone buzzed, cutting through my thoughts.
"Boss, we got the mole," Marco's voice came through.
My expression went cold instantly. "Take him to the interrogation room. I'm on my way back."
An hour later, the driver pulled into the manor. I carried sleeping Olei inside, walked to his room, and laid him on the bed. Maria would wake him for dinner later. Then I strode toward the interrogation room.
The lights were harsh white, bleaching the color from the man kneeling on the floor until he looked like a corpse.
His name was Gregory. Joined the organization three years ago. Always worked hard, kept his nose clean.
"Tell me," I pressed the gun to his temple, "who paid you to let Vanessa go?"
Gregory's teeth were chattering, cold sweat streaming down his face. "Boss, I-I can explain—"
"I don't have patience." I applied slight pressure with the gun. "You already wasted one chance."
The stench of piss suddenly filled the air. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the wet stain spreading across his crotch. Pissed himself already?
"Tomaso!" He cracked, sobbing. "It was Tomaso's people who got Vanessa out! They gave me thirty grand to pull the guards away during the transfer—"
That old bastard. Should've known. All these years fighting over territory and business, the hatred kept piling up. I'd weakened his operation considerably, but the old dog clearly wasn't dead yet.
"What else?" I asked coldly.
"Nothing else, I swear there's nothing else!" He banged his head on the floor frantically. "Boss, please! I'll never betray the Bratva for money again, I swear to God—I'll serve the organization faithfully from now on, I swear—"
"The moment a traitor betrays the organization, he's already a dead man." I pulled the trigger without mercy.
The gunshot rang out. The begging stopped.
I turned and walked out of the interrogation room, told Marco waiting by the door, "Send people into Tomaso's territory. Get Vanessa back, whatever it takes."
"Yes, Pakhan."
After dinner, I sat in my study handling paperwork.
Night deepened outside. On my computer screen, Anthea's bedroom played out in real time.
She'd just showered, her blonde hair still damp, falling across her shoulders.
She leaned against the headboard, legs curled casually, holding a book.
The bedside lamp cast a warm yellow circle around her, wrapping her in quiet contentment.
When she read, she was completely focused. Her fingertips traced the page edges, turning them occasionally. Sometimes she'd furrow her brow slightly, like she'd hit something confusing. Other times, a smile would touch her lips at something interesting.
I realized I'd stopped working. I just watched her on the screen, my breathing slowing down. Suddenly, she set down the book and picked up her phone from the nightstand. My fingers immediately clicked on the audio feed.
"Hey, Julian." Her voice was soft and familiar.
My eyes narrowed. That lawyer again. After being warned, he still had the balls to contact Anthea.
"Anthea, I'm not interrupting your rest, am I?" Julian's voice came through.
"No, I was reading. Are you feeling better?" Anthea asked, frowning with concern.
"Much better, thanks for asking." Julian paused. His voice did sound better than before. "I wanted to see if we could meet in three days to talk about the custody case. I've done some research, and wanted to go over the options with you in person."
Anthea sat up straighter in bed, her expression turning serious.
"Okay, no problem." She nodded. "You pick the time and place."
She agreed too quickly. I stared at her face, something lodging in my chest.
"How about three in the afternoon? I'll send you the address later," Julian said.
"Works for me." She answered, gratitude in her voice. "Thank you for helping me, Julian. This could cause you trouble—"
I hadn't heard her use that tone with me in a long time. Soft, trusting, completely unguarded—all of it for this lawyer. A vicious bitterness rose in my chest.
"Don't say that." Julian cut Anthea off, his tone so gentle it made me want to crush his throat. "We grew up together. Your business is my business. Plus, this is your right. You gave birth to him—no one can take him from you."
Anthea went silent for a few seconds. I saw her eyes well up.
"You don't know what that means to me," she said softly. "These six years, I've thought about him every day. Now seeing him healthy, getting to see him every day—I'm so happy."
Her voice grew thick, but she quickly took a deep breath, steadying herself. I watched her stubborn, fragile expression, a dull ache in my chest. These six years must have been hell for her. And I was the one who put her through it.
"You'll be with him soon," Julian comforted her. "Trust me."
This idiot thought that would make him Anthea's hero? Naive. I'd like to see what he could actually pull off.
"Okay." She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. "See you in three days."
"Goodnight, Anthea."
"Goodnight."
After hanging up, Anthea sat quietly holding her phone for a while. Eventually, she placed it back on the nightstand and collapsed backward onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. I watched her. The lamplight outlined her soft, lonely silhouette.
I didn't understand. I'd told her she could see Olei anytime, take him out. And yesterday she'd asked for my help—I'd replaced her door and windows, and her attitude toward me had improved.
I thought she was starting to trust me. But she still wanted custody of Olei. Still guarded against me. Still turned to another man.
I rubbed my temples hard, bitterness flooding through me.
The next afternoon, I drove to pick up Olei from school.
The Bentley pulled out of the manor gates and merged into traffic. As I drove, I habitually checked the rearview mirror. Years of combat had trained me to notice anything out of place.
A gray Ford had been following me since I hit the main street, staying several car lengths back. Not too close, not too far, changing lanes naturally. Tomaso's people? Or one of my other enemies? Either way, if they'd tracked me this far, it meant Anthea and Olei weren't safe anymore.
My expression went cold. I jerked the wheel, turning into an alley. The sedan followed. I accelerated, took several sharp turns, then came out on another road. In the rearview mirror, the Ford was gone. I'd lost it.
I sped up, heading toward the school. When I arrived, the bell had just rung. Cars clustered around the entrance. Kids burst out carrying backpacks, faces lit with joy.
I parked by the entrance, got out, and scanned the surroundings. Quickly spotted the problem. In the van parked diagonally across from the school gate, the driver kept glancing my direction. The moment I looked his way, he looked away.
They'd already gotten their goddamn hands near the school. I pulled my gaze back just as Anthea came out holding Olei's hand, a gentle smile on her lips.
"Dad!" Olei saw me, tried to pull Anthea toward me.
But when Anthea spotted me, her smile faded. She stopped walking. I knew she was trying to draw boundaries with me now. My heart twisted. I strode toward them, stopped in front of them.
I ruffled Olei's hair first, then looked at Anthea. "I'll drive you back."
"No need, I can—" She started to refuse.
I didn't let her finish. I stepped forward and pulled her into my arms. Her faint scent hit my senses, addictive. Her body went rigid instantly, hands instinctively pressing against my chest, trying to push me away in panic.
"What are you doing?" She frowned, struggling hard. "Let go!"
I tightened my hold, lowered my head near her ear, hot breath hitting it. Her ear flushed red almost immediately. I wanted to bite it so badly.
"Listen, Anthea." I dropped my voice low, tone turning serious. "In that white van over there, someone's watching us."
Her movements stopped.
"Use your peripheral vision. Four o'clock behind me," I said.
Using me as cover, she scanned that direction.
"I see it. Who are they?" Her voice trembled slightly. She was scared. "Are they after Olei?"
"They're probably sent by one of my enemies," I answered, tried to reassure her. "But don't worry. I won't let you or Olei get hurt."
She nodded, relief washing over her.
"Get in the car first." I released her, scooped up Olei. "I'll explain on the way."
This time, she didn't refuse.
As the car pulled away from the school, I saw the van start up in the rearview mirror and follow. I didn't try to lose them yet. Kept a normal speed, let them tail me. Couldn't spook them now—not with Anthea and Olei in the car.
"Silas, what's going on?" Anthea sat in the passenger seat, voice low so she wouldn't scare Olei in his car seat behind us. "Is it Tomaso's people again?"
"I was tailed on my way to the school," I said briefly. "Don't know which faction sent them yet. I'll have Marco look into it. We'll have answers soon."
Her breathing quickened. "What are you going to do until then?"
"I'll beef up security at the school, send more people. They won't get a chance while he's there." I glanced at her. The worry in her eyes made my chest ache. "You and Olei will be fine. I promise."
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded gently.
I turned onto a quiet side street, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.
The van was still there. I accelerated, took several sharp turns, shot into a one-way street, then came out another exit.
The van got stuck in the one-way. By the time they figured out how to get around, I was already blocks away.
"Lost them," I said.
Anthea exhaled, her tense shoulders finally relaxing.
By the time we reached Oak Street, it was getting dark.
"Do they... know where I live?" she asked.
"Not yet." I killed the engine and parked beneath her building. "They've been tailing me. Haven't found your place. You're safe here for now."
She looked at me with complicated eyes, like she wanted to say something, but finally just nodded.
"I'll assign you some security. Just live normally—they'll protect you from the shadows." I knew what was making her uneasy.
Her expression improved.
"...Thank you." The gratitude came hard.
I raised an eyebrow, looking at her. She avoided my gaze, glanced into the back seat. Olei had fallen asleep. Probably realizing we were talking business, the little guy stayed quiet the whole ride and dozed off out of boredom.
Anthea's eyes went soft.
After watching Olei for a moment, she reached for the door handle. "I should go."
Click.
The door locked, didn't budge. She whipped around, eyes full of wariness. "What are you doing?"
I didn't answer. Leaned across the center console toward her. She shrank back, spine pressed against the door. But in this enclosed space, she had nowhere to go. My fingertips touched her hair. She tensed like she'd been electrocuted.
Then I plucked a tiny piece of cardboard from the top of her head. Gold, star-shaped, almost invisible.
"You had something in your hair." I held the little scrap up in front of her.
Anthea stared at the glittering fragment, her wariness turning to embarrassment. She opened her mouth but couldn't speak.
I leaned in again. This time, she didn't flinch, just froze as my hand reached past her side.
The seatbelt clicked open, loud in the quiet car.
"There." I straightened up and looked at her. "You can go now if you want."
She didn't move, like she hadn't recovered from what just happened. After a moment, she finally pushed the door open.
"...Must've been from art class. We were doing crafts with the kids."
She got out quickly and hurried toward the building entrance. Her back looked flustered, steps rushed, like something was chasing her. I lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, acrid smoke filling my lungs.