Page 82 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes

Chapter24

Gen

The sound of Silas’s fist colliding with Sebastian’s jaw is horrifying. It’s not the exaggerated smack you hear in movies—it’s a dull, wet sound that seems to reverberate through the thin walls of my office.

I gasp, hand flying to my mouth as I watch Sebastian stumble back a step. His jaw is already turning red, his whole body bristling with a rage I can feel from halfway across the room. Silas looks like he’s two seconds away from throwing another punch, fists clenched so tight the tendons in his arms stand out against his skin.

Fuck…this is not good.

They’re locked in some primal standoff, two alpha predators sizing each other up, and for a second, I honestly think they’re going to tear each other apart. I need to get between them. I need to stop this before it spirals even further out of control.

I step forward instinctively, stupidly, intending to wedge myself between them, but Max is faster. When did he get here?

His arm wraps around my waist, yanking me back against his chest. We stumble together, momentum carrying us awkwardly to the floor, my hip knocking painfully into the edge of the coffee table before he catches us both.

The air whooshes out of my lungs in an undignified squeak. Max grunts as he cushions most of the impact. Panic flares hot and wild in my chest—the baby. But Max is already checking me over, hands skimming my arms, my ribs, my stomach, frantic and rough.

“Jesus, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Silas is there a second later, dropping to his knees beside us, his entire body vibrating with panic. His hands moving over my arms, my shoulders, my stomach, checking for injuries, for signs of distress, his movements frantic. "Baby, talk to me. Did you break anything? We need to get you to a doctor. Fuck, we need—Max?—”

"I’m fine!" I snap, trying to wriggle free from their hands.

"Jesus, G, are you okay? I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—we need to get you checked, we need to—" His voice breaks, and he’s already reaching for his phone, probably ready to call an ambulance.

"I’m fine," I snap, louder than I mean to, shoving his hands away. "Stop. I’m fine. The baby is fine."

“Shit.” Max’s voice breaks, but it’s not fear that takes over—it’s fury. He shoves Silas hard enough he lands on his ass, his face twisted into something furious. It’s an emotion I’ve never seen coming from him and it shocks me into silence for a moment.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" he snaps. “You could have hurt her! You don’t pull this shit with her standing in the middle."

His glare cuts to Sebastian, sharp enough to draw blood. "And you—you walk in here throwing accusations and fists like you have any goddamn right? You don’t get to break her, disappear, and then act like you’re the victim!"

Max’s hands fist at his sides, and for a second, I think he might actually lunge at Sebastian. Silas is on his feet again, me and the baby apparently forgotten.

I plant my hands on the floor, push myself upright, and fix these idiots with the fiercest glare I can manage.

"Are you boys insane?" I snap. Finally, mercifully, they all freeze. "You want to throw punches? Fine. Knock yourselves out. But do it somewhere else. I’m not cleaning up your blood."

Silas looks properly chastised, shoulders sagging as he scrubs a hand through his hair. Max shifts back, mouth pressed into a hard, thin line.

Sebastian, though. Sebastian just stands there, looking like he’s holding himself together by the thinnest possible thread. And it’s starting to fray. There’s blood trailing from the corner of his mouth and I’ve never seen him look so disheveled—not even after he fucked me stupid.

His chest rises and falls in sharp, violent bursts, his hands curled into fists at his sides. But it’s his eyes that wreck me.

Furious. Betrayed. Hurt.

"You should’ve told me," he says, voice low and raw.

I stiffen, drawing myself up even though every instinct is screaming to look away. I’d like to do just about anything other than stand here while the man who shattered me looks at me like I’m the one who brokehim.

"I tried," I say, hating the way my voice wobbles. "You ignored my calls. You ignored my texts. I’m pretty sure you actually blocked my number. I was done chasing after someone who made it very clear they didn’t want anything to do with me."

The words scrape against my throat on the way out, but I hold his gaze. I make sure he sees every ounce of the hurt he left behind. He doesn’t get to come in here and play the victim. Fuck that.

Max shifts behind me, his hand finding the small of my back in silent support. Silas mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously likeasshole, but I don’t turn to confirm it. I can’t. I’m too busy watching the way Sebastian’s jaw tics, the way his entire body goes still.

Sebastian’s gaze drops to my stomach, lingering there for a heartbeat too long, and I feel it—his want. His desperation. His absolute, suffocating fury at the idea that someone else might be part of a future he wasn’t ready to claim until it was almost too late.