Page 48 of Ugly Truths (The Veiled Truths Trilogy #2)

Elena

As the hours slipped by after their scheduled lunch with no word, a small, desperate hope crept in. Maybe William felt the weight of his actions and his children’s disgust. Maybe he wanted to fix things and that’s why no one called. Maybe Silas and Natalie didn’t have to cross that line.

The message I’m staring at shatters any of those naive fantasies.

CEO AND PHILANTHROPIST WILLIAM WELLS FOUND DEAD IN HOME FROM APPARENT HEART ATTACK

The news anchor's mouth moves, but her words are drowned out by the ringing in my ears.

The prepared family statement appears next, featuring an older photo of Silas, Natalie, and Jeremy alongside their father on a red carpet somewhere.

The words are kind and polished and tell me exactly which option William took.

My phone lies beside me, its screen dark and still.

The pressure in my chest is unbearable. My fingers twist the edge of the comforter, and the fabric bunches between them.

Where is he? Did he go to William’s mansion? Is he at the coroner’s office? Should I call him? Should I go to him?

There's a faint shuffle of footsteps in the hallway. My head snaps toward the door just as Silas steps into view.

His gaze is fixed on the television, where the news plays a montage of William’s public life. Charity events, corporate galas, ribbon-cutting ceremonies. It pauses the longest on what might be the last family portrait they ever took.

In the photo, Silas’s mother sits in the center, her health already fading.

William stands behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.

Silas and Natalie flank their mother with polite smiles on their younger faces.

Teenage Jeremy stands slightly off to the side, as though he doesn’t quite know how to fit into the frame.

I fumble for the remote. The screen goes black, but it does nothing to hide the shadows under Silas’s eyes. The tie around his neck hangs loose, his dress shirt wrinkled, and the suit jacket he left wearing this morning is nowhere to be seen.

I stand and take a hesitant step towards him. “Silas,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

The muscles in his jaw are set so tightly that his cheeks appear frail and hollow. Slowly, he turns. A pair of blank eyes meet mine, the whites are tinted an irritated shade of red.

“What do you need?” I repeat the question he once asked after I was assaulted, hoping it might offer him even a fraction of the comfort it gave me.

Silas blinks.

“I don’t know.”

Every cell in my body aches at how unsure he sounds.

I take another cautious step toward him. “Then let me help you figure it out,” I offer.

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. I close the remaining distance and wrap my arms around his neck.

Rising on my toes, I press my cheek against his. “I’m sorry he couldn’t see what he was losing,” I whisper, my voice steady despite the way the rest of me shakes.

His movements are hesitant, but he takes little time to slide his hands around the back of my waist. Against my ribcage, I can feel the pulse of his rapidly beating heart, and he lets his head drop to my shoulder in a defeated slump.

“I fucking hate him,” he says, his lips trembling against my collarbone. Heat prickles under my skin. What I wouldn’t give to have William in front of me so I could kill him myself.

My fingers slide into his hair, thumb moving back and forth in comforting strokes. “I know,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I know.”

The world outside fades out just enough for me to whisper the reassurances he needs.

“You did the right thing.”

“He didn’t want to change.”

“He would have hurt more people.”

“We can fix this now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Only when his arms relax around my middle do I pull back enough to hold him at arm’s length. “A shower might help,” I suggest softly. “Let me get it ready for you.”

His expression is still distant, but after a pause, he nods. I lead him to the bathroom, flipping on the dimmest lights as I go until everything is soft and golden.

Releasing his hand to turn on the water, I test the temperature with my fingers. When I turn back, Silas is standing in the center of the room, his eyes tracking my every movement.

Stepping toward him, I reach for his glasses first, gently sliding them off his face and folding them with care. I place them on the edge of the sink. The gesture always feels strangely intimate to me, and tonight, it feels even more so.

I move to his tie next, carefully loosening it and sliding it over his head.

The silk slips through my fingers. Then I’m onto the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one.

When it hangs open, I slide it down his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

I unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down.

He steps out of them to stand in just his boxer briefs.

Crouching down to slide his briefs off, I tap the side of one leg. He lifts it, then the other, before they’re on the floor, too. Rising to my full height, I meet his gaze again. The way he’s watching me is like he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do next.

With a hand on his chest, I stand on my toes to press a tender kiss to his mouth. “Go ahead,” I whisper against him, nodding toward the warm cascade of water. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He exhales a shaky breath that feels like a small victory and steps past the glass door and into the shower. The muscles in his back seize as the water hits him before melting with the droplets that run down his skin.

Quickly shedding my own clothes, I let my hair fall loose from its ponytail and follow him. The steam wraps around my limbs, easing the tension in my own muscles. Silas stands with his back to me, the water tracing the hard lines of his body.

Taking a small step forward, I place a hand on his back. When he doesn’t react, I slowly wrap my arms around him from behind, resting my palms flat against his chest and stomach. The side of my face presses lightly against the wet skin between his shoulder blades.

He stiffens beneath my touch, locking up as though he’s bracing for something. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but I don’t loosen my hold. I press closer, letting the warmth of the water and him surround me.

Our relationship has always been a force of nature that burned hotter than it ever soothed.

Though he doesn’t believe it, it’s always been Silas leading us through those fires, forging ahead while I’ve done everything I can just to keep pace.

How do you offer comfort to someone who’s never waited for anyone?

Who’s carved his own path through every storm?

I just want to meet him where he is. To know I see it. I see him .

“Let me in.” My voice is barely audible over the steady hum of the water. I press a kiss to his shoulder, letting the words linger there. “Please. ”

I feel his inhale stutter against my palms. Instead of pushing for an answer, I let my hands glide over his chest comfortingly.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “I don’t regret it.”

I nod against him, my fingers tracing soothing patterns against his skin. “That’s understandable.”

“He knew—” Silas sucks in a sharp breath, “—he knew about Martin assaulting Natalie.”

The confession ripples through me.

I take a slow breath, forcing out the rage that threatens to rise. “That fucking asshole,” I say. It’s all I can manage.

Silas's hands curl into fists at his sides, the muscles in his forearms straining. Then, suddenly, he pulls away. The rejection stings. My arms drop to my sides as he turns to face me, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it might shatter.

Finally, he exhales. “The second I realized he would never change…” He trails off, his eyes distant, focused on some invisible point beyond me. “Every good emotion I ever felt toward him just flipped off. Like a switch.”

My throat tightens.

“I enjoyed the rest of it,” he continues, his voice dipping lower. “Watching him come to terms with the fact that there was no way out. No deal he could make. Nothing to save him.” He pauses, his gaze snapping back to mine. “I loved it.”

The bitterness of his confession is so palpable, I can taste it. “But I'm worried about other things now,” he whispers.

I tilt my head slightly, my heart pounding. “What other things?” I ask.

His gaze drops to the floor. This time, he doesn’t pull away when I step closer.

“What this means for me.” The emotion begins unraveling in his eyes. “What if I end up just like him?”

Silas's voice cracks on the last word, and it steals my breath because he believes it. Sees it in his future like it’s written in stone.

Even after everything. All of the sacrifices he’s made and the good he’s done.

The way he cares so deeply about people, his family, and me.

Hell, he should already be just like William.

And yet, he’s standing here after making an impossible decision today because it’s what was necessary and right.

Without hesitation, I reach up and cup his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing gently over the stubble on his cheekbones. “You’re not him.” The anger is almost as strong as my conviction. “You’re nothing like him.”

Silas tries to look away, but I hold him there. “You’re good, Silas,” I whisper. “You’re good because of how much you love Natalie and Davey. Because no matter how hard it is to get along with Jeremy, you don’t want him hurt.”

His chest rises and falls unevenly beneath my own. I don’t stop. “You know what William did is wrong, and you want to fix it. And, despite everything I’ve done to hurt you, you’re trying to forgive me.”

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away, threading my fingers through his wet hair. “You’re good, Silas,” I repeat. “And if there ever comes a time when you’re not, I’ll tell you. I’ll help you.”