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“I’m going to marry Ethan Fox.”
“You’re not.”
“And there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing!”
“If you think that’s true, then you don’t know me.”
“I used to think you were some kind of hero growing up, you know that?” she says, voice sad, tears streaming. “But heroes break. And you’re broken, Silas. You’re so broken that you’ve become the villain of your own story.”
We stand like that for a minute until she finally makes a move and disappears into the elevator. The doors slide closed.
She’s lying. She doesn’t love him. She can’t. And maybe she’s right about me. Maybe I have become the villain of my own story. But if that’s true, it’s Sullivan Fox who made me that.
I turn away from the elevator, pour myself another whiskey. I shake my head as I drink it down, because she has no idea. I don’t speak empty words. I don’t say shit just to say shit like her pretty boy does. She’s not marrying him. Period. The end.
Her perfume lingers and her words filter into my brain. And as I process, I focus on just one thing. Just one part of what she said.
No prenup.
He doesn’t want a prenup.
And I know I’m right.
Ophelia Hart needs saving, once again. And I’m the one who always saves her. She said so herself. I won’t fuck up twice. I won’t let her walk away twice.
14
SILAS
The top two floors of the Oasis Tower building are taken up by Hart & Fox Enterprises. I ride the elevator to the top, watching the lights of the city below through the glass walled elevator. It’s after ten o’clock on Friday night, and the building is empty.
Sly himself will be heading back to Sinistral tonight.
Big night tomorrow. The Fox annual masquerade ball will be back for the first time since the shit hit the fan with Hart. I’m sure Sly is anxious to get there and collect all those congratulations, the pats on the back, the nods ofwe knew it couldn’t be youbullshit because up until Horatio Hart took the plea deal and confessed to it all, those same people kept their distance from Sly Fox, not wanting to be ensnared in his web.
“Cecilia just emailed the last of the paperwork,”Nigella says, and I turn to her, having almost forgotten she was there.
“Good,” I say, adjusting my tie and checking the time. “Once we get his signature, you’ll head back to Atlanta and finalize everything.”
She nods.
“I appreciate the hours you’re putting in, Nigella. Especially given the time of year.”
“I know this is important to you, Silas. What about you? When will you head home?”
I shift my gaze to the elevator doors as the bell dings and the doors begin to open.
“Not sure. I may just stay here and work through the holiday,” I say. No one to go back for. Mom’s gone. It’ll be my first Christmas without her.
I’m looking straight ahead, but I can see Nigella studying me.
“Let’s get this done.” I say, buttoning my suit jacket, stepping off the elevator and heading through the empty office toward the door at the far corner. I glance at what was once Hart’s corner office and see his name has already been scraped off the door, replaced by Ethan Fox’s.
My hands clench and unclench. I hear Sly’s voice as an older woman opens the office door, head down reading a file. She doesn’t see us right away.
“This week, Ethan. You do it this week,” Sly says.
“You saw how skittish she was. She’s not going to go for it.”
