Page 140 of The Silver Fox Brother

The living room is elegantly furnished—a plush cream sofa, two armchairs, a glass coffee table. A large flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall above a sleek console. Near the windows, there's a dining table with four chairs.

To the left is a small kitchen, fully equipped with a stainless steel refrigerator, a sink, and polished marble countertops. Everything pristine and untouched.

I walk toward the bedroom.

The master suite is just as impressive. A king-size bed dominates the space, dressed in crisp white linens. More floor-to-ceiling windows flood the room with natural light, making it feel airy and open.

The bathroom is connected—marble floors, a massive glass-enclosed shower with dual heads, and a large soaking tub positioned beneath a window overlooking the gardens.

I set my bag on the bed and unpack a few essentials. My laptop. A change of clothes for later. Toiletries.

I use the bathroom, splash water on my face, freshen up.

When I return to the living room, I pull out my laptop and set it on the dining table. I connect to the Wi-Fi and open my email.

That's when I hear it; a faint voice—Knox's voice.

I freeze.

My eyes drift toward the corner of the room near the kitchen. There's a door there—plain, unassuming.

The adjoining door.

I stand slowly and move toward it, my footsteps quiet on the carpet. I press my ear against the door. Knox's voice is clearer now. He's on the phone, his tone professional but firm. Something about revised contracts and timeline adjustments.

He's close. Just on the other side of this door. I look down at the handle. My hand reaches out slowly, fingertips brushing the cool metal. Then I pull back. I reach down and check the lock. It's engaged.

"Best if we keep it that way," I murmur to myself.

I take a step back, exhale slowly, and return to the dining table. I open my laptop and force myself to focus on the screen in front of me. But Knox's voice is still faintly audible through the door, a constant reminder that he's right there. Just on the other side.

An hour later, I'm down in the main lobby. I step into the grand foyer and search for Knox. The space is massive—marble floors, high ceilings, contemporary art installations positioned throughout. I spot him standing by the window near the far wall, phone to his ear again. He turns and his eyes catch mine across the way.

I start walking toward him. He begins walking toward me too, and for a moment we're moving toward each other across the lobby. I'm almost close enough to standbeside him when he suddenly pivots and heads toward the revolving door.

I follow.

The Maybach is waiting out front. The driver opens my side of the car and I climb in. Knox waves him off before he can circle around.

"It's alright," Knox says, opening his own door and sliding into the backseat beside me.

He gives the driver an address and we pull away from the hotel. Knox is still on the phone, his voice low and controlled as he discusses timeline adjustments with whoever is on the other end.

I look out the window, watching the palm trees and waterfront properties blur past.

But I can smell him. Clean aftershave. Masculine. The same scent that's been burned into my memory since the construction site.

I glance over.

He's looking straight ahead, his expression unreadable, deep in thought as he listens to whatever is being said on the phone. Then suddenly his eyes shift and lock onto mine—just for a few seconds. I turn back to the window quickly.

Moments later, Knox finishes his call and hangs up. He shifts in his seat, the leather creaking slightly.

I take a deep breath. "So where are we going exactly?"

"A development. One of mine. In Old Naples." He pauses.

"There's an issue with the contractor that I need to address, but I also wanted you to see the design concept. As I mentioned."