Page 33 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Silas

L eaning back into the plush leather of the booth, I drum my fingers idly on the side of the lowball glass in front of me. My phone buzzes in the opposite hand, and I glance down to see Elena’s reply to the text I’d sent just as we sat down.

Me: I’m going to be later than I thought. Jeremy’s dragged us to one of his favorite clubs.

Elena: The horror. Anything but that!

I smirk despite myself, my fingers moving quickly over the keyboard as I type back a response.

Me: Watch the sass.

Elena: Should I wait up for you, or will you be too busy dancing to bad club remixes?

I can practically hear the teasing lilt in her voice, and it stokes the heady fire that always seems to lick at my veins whenever she is involved.

Me: Keep the bed warm. I’ll deal with you later.

Elena: (;

My tongue skims over the front of my teeth to suppress the smile tugging at my lips before locking my phone screen.

The whiskey Jeremy insisted on getting me sits mostly untouched, condensation pooling around the bottom.

The bass of the music makes the glass shake slightly, and strobes of light reflect off the melting ice cubes.

Across from me, my brother is entirely in his element, teeth shining in the darkness as he grins at the waitress lingering at the edge of our circular booth. The staff greeted him when we walked in and escorted us to his “usual table” within seconds.

I’d stepped back from Jeremy’s opioid recovery a long time ago.

Between shielding him from the press, running Wells, trying to get him professional help, and fending off my father, who often fueled the problem, I’d burned out completely.

I had nothing left to give either of them.

After some convincing from Natalie, I decided to wash my hands of it the day Jeremy checked into that last rehab facility in California and was officially in their care.

After that, I made it clear that I could no longer have an active role in his recovery. A lot of angry words were exchanged during that conversation, but by the end of it, he got the message.

He’s remained sober of those substances as far as I know, but the royal treatment we’re receiving and the number of drinks he’s had since dinner raise red flags I’d be stupid to ignore.

Davey glances up from his phone beside me, likely texting Natalie and telling her what a shitshow this is shaping up to be.

Dinner had been my attempt to soften Jeremy up. He was apprehensive about going out with me, especially after the board meeting, but I was adamant that it was just a chance for us to catch up. Davey joining us to serve as a buffer didn’t hurt, either.

The entire evening felt like a first date.

I made reservations at a steakhouse we both enjoyed going to with our mother.

We sat at a preferred table, and the service was immaculate.

The drinks were flowing, and I kept things light.

Family memories, harmless jokes—anything to get him to relax—but he never got there.

When I tried to redirect the conversation to something of substance, he would rebuff me with a joke or excuse himself to the bathroom.

By the time the check came, the only thing I’d accomplished was getting him moderately drunk.

Then suddenly he received a call from one of his weekend friends, and now we’re in this club where he seems to know every face and drink order.

He’s loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, though his hair is still perfectly groomed.

For whatever reason, I can barely stomach it.

Maybe some of it is jealousy. I’ve never had the luxury of being so unburdened.

But it’s more than that. Jeremy’s always been different.

Behind the polished charm, there’s a hollowness I can’t define.

It’s not from lack of trying to understand him, either. My mom worked hard to ensure that my siblings and I had a solid bond, knowing how isolating this life could be. She was convinced that even if everything fell apart, the three of us would always have one another.

Natalie and I took that seriously. We’ve spent most of our lives trying to build that invisible bridge between us, but Jeremy made it damn near impossible.

I can rely on my sister for nearly anything, but I can’t say the same for him.

It’s like he’s never truly been with us, even when he’s physically here.

I’m one to talk. I’ve been called cold and ruthless more times than I can count, but Jeremy is on a level even I’m uncomfortable with. It’s not just detachment; it’s like he’s missing something vital. And if I can see it, who else can?

“How much do you think he’s had?” Davey mutters against the edge of his whiskey glass, masking his words.

“Too much,” I reply as Jeremy tosses back another shot, his laugh loud and easy as he flirts with a new waitress in leather shorts and a matching bra with metal studs on the edges.

Davey leans back against the booth, head cocked slightly. “You’re not going to get anything out of him tonight. ”

“Don’t remind me,” I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. The waitress, who just finished whispering something against Jeremy’s ear, slinks away from our booth and moves to the neighboring one.

My brother turns back to us, raising his glass with that same broad grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two look like you’re at a funeral,” he jokes. “Lighten up, will you?”

I force a small smile, lifting my glass in response. “Clubs haven’t really ever been my thing.”

“Then why come?”

I shrug, letting my gaze drift with feigned interest. We’re tucked into one of a dozen oversized booths lining the back wall, each one perched a few feet above the main floor.

An oversized walkway stretches in front of us, framed by a glass railing that offers an uninterrupted view of the chaos below.

The dance floor throbs with too many bodies. Strobe lights slice across the crowd in erratic bursts, turning sweat-slicked skin into flashes of silver and shadow.

My focus returns to Jeremy. “We can’t let you have all the fun alone.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You’re right,” I say, keeping my tone measured. “But I’m still your brother, and I like to know you’re good.”

For a moment, something flickers across Jeremy’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by that easy grin. The knot in my stomach twists tighter.

Davey speaks just loud enough for me to hear. “You’re going to push too hard.”

Not hard enough.

I lean forward. “So, how’s everything going with the projects you and Dad have been working on?”

Jeremy stiffens before he masks it with a shrug. “What’s there to talk about? ”

“You tell me.” I shrug. “It seems like you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

Jeremy sets his glass down harder than necessary. “We have.” The sharpness in the statement is unmistakable. “Why?”

“Curiosity.” I don’t take the bait. “He didn’t mention your proposal before the meeting, so I was just wondering what else you two have been discussing.”

Jeremy leans back, and his eyes narrow. “Why does it matter?” he asks.

“Like I said, I’m curious.” I meet his stare evenly. “You’ve been working closely, and I want to know how it’s going. What you’ve been focusing on.”

“What I’ve been focusing on,” he echoes, unsure.

“I want to understand what you’re passionate about.”

For a second, he just stares, processing the words. Then, something shifts. His apprehension molts into anger faster than I can blink; muscles coiling under his skin as if he’s braced for an attack.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I get it.”

I exhale. Shit. “Jeremy—”

“Worried I’m going to embarrass you again with another idea in the future?” he snaps.

I shake my head. “I had to be objective. It’s how I’d be for any member’s proposal.”

Jeremy snorts. “Yeah, well, none of those people are your brother.”

Damn it. I have to salvage this. “You have a strong way of selling an idea. Your enthusiasm, the way you framed it—that takes skill.” I pause. “I think you’d be great in sales.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Jesus Christ, there it is.” Lifting his hand to his jaw, he rubs at the tense muscles. “You’re trying to push me into something else because you think I’m too stupid for operations.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” He says through gritted teeth. “Dad said you wouldn’t get the vision. ”

The words press against the center of my chest. There’s been no question that William has been pitting us against one another for months, but to hear it confirmed out loud is something else entirely.

I force myself to stay still. “What else does he say?”

Jeremy settles back into his seat, a smug expression settling on his lips. “That we’d make a great team.”

We .

And he isn’t referring to the two of us.

I nod once, carefully schooling my expression. “I’m going to grab another drink,” I say, standing abruptly. The table has service, but I need to step away before I do something I can’t take back. “You want the same?”

Jeremy waves a hand dismissively. “Do whatever you want, Silas. You always do.”

Though I can feel Davey’s eyes on me, I don’t look toward him.

I slide out of the booth without a word and make my way down to the VIP bar at the base of the stairs.

It’s marginally quieter here, tucked slightly away from the main floor, but not by much.

I’m not sure if the vibrating running through me is the music or my own furious pulse at this point.

After a few minutes, the bartender meets my gaze and I order another round, my fingers drumming against the bar top in restless frustration.

I can’t fucking believe him.

Either of them.

What am I supposed to do with any of this?

Jeremy has never wanted to hear anything I have to say.

We’ve been in some kind of one-sided competition our whole lives, and he’ll only think I’m trying to sabotage him.

It’s definitely what my father has convinced him of, anyway, because apparently they’re a team now.

And I’ve become the enemy.

“Silas Wells,” a familiar voice says, warm and teasing. “As I live and breathe.”

I jolt just as Alice Lancaster saddles up beside me, her glass of something-on-the-rocks in hand, gaze bright with amusement.

“Alice,” I say with a practiced smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise,” she replies, her tone laced with playful curiosity. “You don’t exactly scream ‘club regular.’”

“I’m not,” I admit, nodding behind me. “Jeremy’s idea.”

“Ah,” she says knowingly, her eyes flicking toward the booths. “Forever the responsible older brother.”

“Hopefully, not for long. I think I’m going to hire out the job soon,” I quip. Her laugh comes easily, just as her free hand rests on my bicep. She leans in, fingers tensing on my shirt sleeve.

“You always take on more than you should,” she replies with a dazzling smile. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

The compliment settles uncomfortably over me, but not as much as her touch. I turn back toward the bar, and her hand falls away. “Alice,” I start, “I owe you an apology for not calling after our last date.”

I was so disoriented from the whole argument at Natalie’s that I dropped her off at her home without much explanation.

“I figured you had your reasons.” There’s a pause. “Did everything work out with… whatever that was?”

“It did.” I glance at the bartender, who’s preparing my drinks alongside several others. “I think it’s only fair to let you know I won’t be calling in the future.”

Alice’s smile falters before she nods slowly. “It’s her, isn’t it?” she asks. “The pretty brunette at your sister’s house?”

“Yes.” The word is out before I even think about it.

Elena and I agreed to take this one day at a time, to figure out what we could be if I didn’t let my anger dictate everything.

And in the process, I’ve started getting to know her the same way she seems to already know me.

Scarlett was intelligent, stubborn, independent, and impossible not to want, but I barely scratched the surface.

Elena is all of those things, but amplified.

Every time I think I’ve figured her out, she proves me wrong, and what surprises me most is how much I want her to .

But wanting her and trusting her aren’t always the same thing.

There are some days when I can’t let go of everything she’s done and I force space between us to quiet the voices screaming in my head to end this before the same thing happens again.

I see how much that affects her, and I hate it.

It’s the reason I haven’t made any definitive decisions about us.

Yet my answer comes too fast, like claiming her is instinct.

The realization unsettles me.

Alice exhales, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I thought so.”

Her candor catches me off guard. “That obvious?” I ask, my voice softer than I intended.

“Yes,” she says with a faint laugh. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I just hope she’s worth all the trouble.”

The idea of anyone dismissing Elena without knowing her stirs something defensive in me. “She is.” Another contradiction I should probably unpack.

Alice nods again, her shoulders relaxing. “Then I’m happy for you, Silas,” she says and raises her glass. “Thanks for being honest. It’s more than most would do.”

“Thank you,” I echo, meaning it. She takes a sip of her near-empty drink just as the bartender places three glasses on the counter in front of me. I hand him several bills and decline the change.

“I need to get back to my friends before they wonder if I’ve been kidnapped,” Alice jokes. “See you around?”

“See you,” I reply, offering a small smile before collecting my drinks and heading up the stairs without looking back.

When I return to the table, Davey is alone.

I don’t bother asking where Jeremy went.

Instead, I slide one of the glasses of Macallan toward my brother-in-law and down the other as I sink back into the booth.

The burn hits hard and sharp in my throat before flaring to my nose.

I suck in a breath through my teeth, waiting for the sting to settle.

Now, what the hell do I do about my dad and brother?