Page 42 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Silas

“W hat the fuck,” Lloyd breathes, slumping on the leather sofa and fingers threading through his dark curls.

My throat is raw from speaking, legs stiff from standing behind my desk with Cillian, Lloyd, and Steven on the other side. Davey and Paul are on speakerphone, with Davey on his way here. Paul stayed behind at the satellite office with Corey, Ben, and Luis.

My desk chair, where Elena sat an hour ago after collapsing into it, is empty. She slipped out quietly when the others walked in, murmuring that she'd be downstairs if needed. I didn’t fully grasp her departure until it was too late.

Cillian’s expression is stone-cold. Steven rubs his face wearily next to Lloyd, who shakes his head at the ceiling. I've outlined everything we've learned, barely controlling the turmoil raging within me.

William did it all right under my nose, releasing a type of evil into the world that I never thought anyone could be capable of. And I contributed to it, whether I knew it or not.

All of my father’s erratic and nonsensical power moves in the past six months have come into stunning clarity. Of course, he wanted Jeremy as COO. How else can he keep pulling his strings if he doesn’t have one of his loyal dogs sitting at the helm ?

But he chose Jeremy, who wouldn’t be able to handle even the everyday tasks of a COO, let alone juggle those and some giant, demonic operation like this in secret.

I can’t tell if it’s William’s age catching up to him or if he’s just so goddamn desperate he’d latch onto anything with a pulse. Maybe it’s both. Either way, it only shows how out of his depth he is now that I’ve dismantled every plan he had to manipulate me.

Everything I’ve worked for, every effort to help or improve the company, feels meaningless against this.

“Did you have any idea this was happening?” Cillian asks.

The barely contained fury in his eyes might upset someone else in my position.

As the first member I recruited—an ex-Seal recommended by a mutual friend—Cill is only more honorable than he is loyal.

It’s the reason I hired him and why he leads this team.

“If I had known, I would have stopped it myself,” I answer.

He eyes me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but after what feels like an eternity, he nods once. That small gesture causes both Steven and Lloyd to relax slightly in their seats.

Davey’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Ben is cross-referencing Redwell Group and North Hollow Ventures on both the cloud and servers,” he says, referencing the companies we bought the Deming facility from six years ago.

I remember thinking how remarkable it was that my father acquired such an incredible property while dealing with Shaw’s departure.

The board loved the space, and we signed the paperwork in a matter of weeks.

Major news outlets covered the development, praising William for bringing more jobs to a remote area of New Mexico with so few career opportunities.

How were we all so blind?

My brother-in-law thinks we’re going to find that one or both businesses have always been a part of our portfolio and buried in our company structure.

I want nothing more than for him to be wrong, but it fits.

My father is a selfish prick who would never risk just himself.

If he’s going to be caught, he’s taking down everyone with him.

If that proves to be true, he likely used the same process for Sierra Blanca.

“Who else do we think knows?” Steven asks.

“Shaw, though we don’t think his involvement extends past Deming,” Paul answers, shuffling paperwork on the other end of the phone. “Maybe a few others. Besides that, hiring external contractors would be the only way he’s kept it quiet for so long.”

My mind spins.

Brenden definitely knows. Jeremy is still a wild card. I can see my father waiting until Jeremy’s in a position of power first before bringing him completely into the fold.

Could Randall Harrington know? He clung to his board seat after retiring as CLO, always loyal to my father. His legal advice would be indispensable for the mess William created.

Was this their way of keeping tabs on things?

Davey adds, “The money funding the facility is likely in offshore accounts. I’m not going to have the details until I can sift through all of this, but that’s the clearest picture we have right now.”

The pain in my chest leaves room for nothing else, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

Visions of desperate people, drawn to these shell companies for hope, flash behind my eyelids. I blink.

Getting lost in that won’t help anyone or anything.

“We're going to fix this,” I assure them, catching each of their gazes. “But we can’t go public with it.”

The room tenses at my words, but I press on, “Going public would trigger thousands of lawsuits and bleed Wells dry. We wouldn’t be able to compensate the victims properly, and we’d have to lay off thousands of people.

We need to maintain enough control to rectify what we can and minimize the damage. ”

Paul’s voice crackles through the speaker. “That’s a bit too convenient for your family.”

“Agreed,” Steven cuts in. “William gets away with all of this while we clean up his mess quietly?”

A burst of fiery heat courses through me.

“Absolutely not,” I snap, fixing him with a glare.

It’s only when I see the concern in his eyes that I find the strength to roll my shoulders, reining in my fury.

“I’d never ask or want you to trust me blindly.

You’ll have the power to act as whistleblowers and hold us all accountable.

William will be held responsible for his actions, one way or another. ”

Davey adds, “I understand how this sounds, but I don’t think we’ll be able to provide compensation to the victims any other way.”

Lloyd and Steven share glances, but Cillian nods, eyes darting back and forth as he turns over the words. “How soon do we move on Sierra Blanca?” he asks.

“As soon as possible. I want two of you to observe the operations discreetly. We won’t engage yet, just gather information,” I instruct.

All three nod in agreement. “We’ll book the flights as soon as we wrap up here,” Lloyd confirms.

Davey clears his throat. “This information does not leave this room. Cillian, I’ll be leaving you to debrief Cora so Silas and I can speak to Natalie privately when they arrive at the house in an hour.”

We list our next steps for the coming weeks. The elephant in the room—William—remains. The team expects me to lead that, but I'm unsure where to start.

How do you dismantle a man who’s spent decades wielding influence?

When we conclude, Cillian, Steve, and Lloyd head back down to the basement. Davey and I stay on the phone for a few more minutes before I hang up, knowing he’ll be here shortly.

Instead of jumping into the files Davey sent over, I find myself wandering to the first floor through the back staircase, something in the center of my chest pulling me forward .

My footsteps slow as I approach the music room.

There's a quiet pride in finding her exactly where I expect, nestled in the window seat against the far wall with her eyes closed.

The early evening sunlight bathes her in a soft halo, accentuating the auburn highlights in her shoulder-length waves.

Her legs stretch out across, head tilted back.

The sunlight not only plays in her hair but also casts a gentle glow across the column of her creamy throat, revealing a burn scar that peeks out from under her t-shirt and up the side of her neck.

I step further into the room, and her eyes flutter open, the brown of her irises lit by the sunlight, as they meet mine.

“Hey,” Elena murmurs and pulls her legs in, crossing them to sit up straighter. I take the seat next to her. “How did it go?”

I ignore her question. “Why did you leave?”

Her eyes drift away as her fingers find a loose thread on her jeans. She tugs at it gently, not quite meeting my gaze. “I felt like I was overstepping,” she finally says. “I left so you could discuss what you needed to without having to worry about... me.”

Shifting to face her directly, I carefully choose my next question. “Why would I be worried?”

Elena’s eyes narrow with a knowing look. “I thought that making the decision for you was easiest, and if you wanted me to stay, you would have said so.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “I respect your choice.”

There’s a flicker of pain in her expression, but she buries it so quickly I don’t know if I’d be fast enough to follow it.

She’s right. I could have asked her to stay or texted her to come back, but I didn’t.

Suddenly, my throat feels tight.

Covering her hand with mine, I halt her nervous picking. My thumb brushes over the soft skin, and when she doesn’t pull away immediately, I lean closer. The golden flecks in her eyes dance nervously as our noses touch before I press my lips softly against hers.

Elena stiffens. I feel her hesitation all the way to the marrow in my bones and rips through me as my heart pumps harder. The woman who has eagerly received my affection for over a month is gone, and what’s left is the woman I was trying desperately to accept me last spring.

I pull back just enough to look at her. The uncertainty is now rolling off her in waves. My grip tightens on her hand. “I’m not thinking straight,” I admit. “I should’ve asked you to stay. I’m sorry.”

The smile she forces is strained, but she holds it. “You don’t need to be sorry for how you feel, Si.”

It’s not how I feel.

I open my mouth to tell her just that, but she’s faster than I am to change the subject. “Tell me how I can help you.”

It’s like swimming through sludge just to catch a single coherent thought, and I have to blink to keep the world upright.

She’s wrong. So painfully wrong. But how can I initiate that conversation right now? Where do we even start? What about everything else that’s falling apart?

My body seems to know what to do more than my brain, because I’m moving without thought. The hand holding hers slides to the base of her neck, drawing her back to me. The warmth from her lips, soft and heated by the sun, feels so damn good.

Elena’s hands remain in her lap, her crossed legs tightening between our chests, keeping me at arm's length. The anger is quick to light, flooding my body from the tips of my ears all the way down to my toes.

She said she’d be here as long as I’d have her, but I can feel her preparing to rebuild the walls she said were gone, brick and mortar at the ready.

My hand moves to her jaw, applying just enough pressure where the joint meets to coax her mouth open.

Her lips part, but there’s still hesitation in the way her breath catches.

I press forward anyway, sweeping my tongue against hers in a slow, claiming stroke.

She barely reacts, and it nearly guts me.

She isn’t allowed to pull away.

Not now.

Rising to a knee, my free hand lands on the wall behind her head, leaning more weight onto her. She lets me feed on her light, but takes little in return.

How can I accept this when I know her fire burns just as hot as mine if she allows it to be seen and felt?

Under the pads of my fingers, the muscles in her jaw begin to relax like a slow unraveling of cords. Her mouth yields a little more, and it’s only when her shoulders relax that the panic loosens.

My fingers shift along her jaw, trail down her throat, and I feel her pulse still racing. Her hand wraps around my wrist—tight and trembling. Still not quite pulling me closer, but it’s enough.

We break for air, but I maintain my hold on her so her face stays angled up at me. “We’re not done talking about this,” I assert. “But I need your help. Natalie will be here soon, and I want you with me.”

Her smile, though still small, feels less forced. Right now, that will have to suffice because I have to break this news to my sister, and I don’t know where to start.

Elena pulls back to stand, yanking me out of my thoughts.

My hand falls from her neck, but her hold on my wrist hasn’t faltered.

She pulls me to my feet with her before sliding her fingers down to lock with mine.

Without a word, she leads us to the door and down the dark hallway to the back staircase.

I'd give anything not to be the one to shatter my sister's world, but if I have to be the one to do it, at least this time, Elena will be there.