Page 36 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Silas

T here’s barely time for the timid knock at my office door to register in my mind before it swings open. My father strides in past Leslie, our gazes briefly meeting. Her eyes are wide and cheeks pink. She mouths an apology to me.

I wave her off with a subtle, reassuring nod. Rising from my chair, I button my suit jacket and plaster on a polite smile. “Dad,” I greet him, my tone warm enough to pass as genuine.

Leslie’s eyes flick between us as I approach, clearly debating whether to leave me alone with him.

She’s only a few years older than me, but as a mother of two and a longtime witness to my clashes with my father, those maternal instincts tend to kick in.

In the almost decade she’s been my secretary, she never breathed a critical word about him until about a year ago.

William and I thought we were alone on the floor that evening and in the middle of a loud, vicious argument in my office when we noticed a faint movement through the glass wall near Leslie’s desk. She was sitting there, trying to disappear into her chair while working on her computer.

Only after my father left did Leslie come in, apologizing. She stayed late to finish some paperwork. I told her there was nothing to forgive, thanked her for her hard work, and wished her a nice evening. As she turned to leave the doorway, she paused and spoke so softly that I almost missed it.

“A parent should never speak to their child that way.”

The funny part about it is, I don’t even remember the insults my father hurled at me now.

Leslie’s concerned gaze stirs the dormant ache for my own mother, growing where the comfort used to be. William brushes past me, his focus already on my desk as his fingers trail over the back of my chair.

“Run along,” he mutters absently, lowering himself into it with all the grace of a king settling onto his throne.

My jaw tightens as Leslie steps out silently, shutting the door behind her. William leans back, his hands on the armrests, surveying the room.

I step away, positioning myself near the window and leaning against the credenza with my arms loosely crossed.

“Can I get you something?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral. “Coffee? Water?”

"Cut the act, Silas. I'm not here for pleasantries," he begins, crossing one leg over the other. “I’ve given you enough time to collect yourself since our last conversation,” he says. “I’d like to discuss how you acted during the board meeting.”

“What about it?”

William exhales. “You let Jeremy flounder,” he answers. “What were you thinking, shutting down his proposal in front of the board like that?”

“That it wasn’t a good proposal?”

His expression hardens. “It wasn’t ready. You had the opportunity to shape it and make it viable, but instead, you left him twisting in the wind.”

A clipped laugh escapes me.

“That’s rich coming from you.” I slowly cross the office, hands coming together behind my back. “Do you remember the topic of the first proposal I brought to the board?”

When he doesn’t respond, I continue, “A strategic expansion into sustainable manufacturing by partnering with a new firm and integrating greener production practices. ”

William scoffs at the reminder. “It was a terrible idea.”

I smirk. "You and the board made sure I knew. Tore it apart, said I didn’t get margins and that 'sustainability' was a buzzword."

My father’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak. I walk the length of the room. “The next time I wanted to present an idea, I looked at it from every perspective possible before bringing it forward.” I turn to face him fully. “Why would Jeremy be an exception to that?”

William doesn’t hesitate. “Because we both know Jeremy can use all the help he can get. You made him look like a fool in front of the people he was trying to impress.”

Not criticism, not guidance. Help . Because my brother can’t possibly do it himself. We need to hold his hand through it so he and my father don’t look bad.

I release a fraction of my growing irritation in a long breath.

“He made a fool of himself long before I spoke. Even if the idea were solid, he thought that a half-assed speech was going to be enough to convince a room of experts of an operational overhaul. You know this. And instead of guiding him, you’re here to reprimand me for doing my job.”

William's eyes darken. “It's what we do for family,” he says through his teeth.

“Is that right?” I meet his gaze. “Where's this mindset when I make proposals? Or when Natalie showed an interest in human resources?”

Nat was interested in far more than that, but it was the one thing she thought our father might entertain.

It was never exactly clear what disqualified her, but he never gave her ideas the time of day, no matter who vouched for them.

Eventually, she grew tired of trying and gave up, which is a damn shame because she’s the one who would make a great COO.

Though the ice in his gaze remains, William dismisses the questions with the same annoyance he might a bug. “Clearly, you’re too emotional to have a productive conversation about this,” he says. “But maybe you can hold it together long enough to discuss our audits.”

I rub my eyes under my glasses, the headache already blooming. “What about them?” I ask.

“Almost all have been completed besides IT,” he says, “I want to know why.”

I shrug. “From the updates I’ve received from Davey, there’s a lot to work through.”

“What exactly is there to work through?”

I keep my expression neutral. “I’m relying on Davey to tell me that. He’s the expert.” Brenden has been unusually quiet this past week. I’ll have to have Davey keep a close eye on him.

My father shakes his head, running a hand through his peppered hair. “A waste of time and money,” he mutters.

I fix my cufflinks. “I want to follow standard procedures. They should be wrapping up soon,” I say, but haven't a clue when Davey and Elena's friends will be done decrypting those files. “Then we can hash out the details of the transition.”

My father rolls his eyes, looking briefly up at the ceiling. “You and those damn details.”

The details we need to make this successful and seamless for everyone. Why would he care, at the end of the day, when it will only reflect poorly on me and my leadership?

My tongue runs over my teeth as I lean on a cigar chair. “I’d be happy to refine those details on my own, if that doesn’t interest you.”

Disbelief flashes across his face. “So I can be blocked out completely by the end of this? I don’t think so.”

The accusation hits me hard enough that it takes a moment for my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.

“Is that what you think I’m trying to do?”

I’ve kept him involved at every step, even in areas I didn’t have to, and somehow, he believes I’m trying to cut him out ?

He ignores my question, resting his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers as his eyes bore into mine.

“If I’d known this was the kind of leadership you’d bring to the table…

” He trails off, letting the thought hang for a moment before continuing, “The secrecy around the audits. The reckless personal choices. And now, leaving your brother out to dry?” He shakes his head, disappointment bleeding into every word.

“I trusted you to be a team player, but now I’m starting to wonder if I made the wrong choice. ”

I blink, head whirling, but that’s the most I’m willing to show.

“Well, just like Jeremy’s nomination, you can try to reverse the executive transition if you think I’m wrong for the job.”

His lips press into a thin line. “Do you think I won’t?” he asks.

My chest burns. Slow and deep at first, then hotter, brighter, sharper with every second he holds my gaze.

He thinks he can threaten me with the one thing I’ve been groomed for since I could walk the halls of this building? The title he drilled into me like gospel? The job he swore he was proud to hand over at the beginning of the year, when we signed the papers and the board stamped their approval?

Something inside of me threatens to crack open.

For years, I swallowed my pride, kept my head down, made compromises to become the man he said he wanted me to be, and now he’s pretending he can take it all back with a single sentence.

Over my dead fucking body.

“I think you can try,” I reply, keeping my voice deceptively even. “If you really believe you can convince them otherwise, by all means.”

The muscles in his jaw flex. He stands, smoothing his suit jacket as he steps around the desk.

“You’re cocky, Silas,” he sighs, “and that confidence will be your undoing.”

I don’t flinch. “Or it’ll be the reason this company thrives.”

The silence between us is so thick I could swim in it .

“You’ve made your position clear.” My position on what, exactly? “We’ll see how long you can hold it.”

He exits without another word, leaving my office door open. Through the glass, he strides down the hall, and only when he’s finally out of sight do I exhale.

It takes me a minute to pick myself off of the cigar chair, flexing my aching fingers from the fist I hadn’t realized I was holding them in. Just as I move back towards my desk, Leslie approaches, her expression cautious.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

I force a small smile, though it feels tight and unnatural. “It’s fine,” I say. “Thank you.”

Leslie nods, clearly unconvinced. She closes the door behind her, and I sink into the chair William vacated, my hands gripping the armrests, wondering how the hell we got here.