Page 103 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

A deep, aching sense of dread settles over me, waiting for his answer.

Marty wasn’t going to let us win that battle, so there’s no way Silas walked away unscathed. What might have happened after I passed out makes my gut twist.

His eyes flicker open. “Well, you almost face-planting on the floor kind of ended it. I told the board that they owed it to my father, to me, to hear everything I had to say without Marty’s interruptions and diversions into issues that have nothing to do with the company, and Isomehowgot them to agree to hold off on making any decisions until next week.”

The vise crushing my chest releases a little of its grip. “So…you bought us some time.”

“Us?”

I’ve never considered how much such a tiny, seemingly insignificant word can mean, but the way he says it, with so much uncertainty and accusation, makes me cringe.

“Silas…it isn’t what you think.”

He pushes up from the chair and slowly approaches me, towering over the edge of the bed, his jaw locked, muscles in his neck straining, tattooed hands fisted at his sides. “Who is he?”

“Who’s who?”

The fog still enveloping my head is taking far too long to clear because I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. He stares at me like I should know exactly what he’s asking, but my brain can’t seem to process it.

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “Who. The. Fuck. Is. Joey. Danvers?”

Shit.

I squeeze my eyes closed.

Of course.

Of course, he knows his name.

Marty seems to always be one step ahead, to have information he shouldn’t, to be able to take things that should be innocuous and twist them into something he can use to drive a stake through someone’s heart.

Silas sucks in a sharp breath, like he’s preparing himself for something that’s about to be excruciatingly painful. “Is he your boyfriend?”

My spine stiffens, and I shake my head, fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “God, no, Silas. I told you; it isn’t what you think.”

“Then fuckingexplainit to me because right now it looks like you married me to get your murdering boyfriend a fucking lawyer.” He flexes his fists at his sides, his nostrils flaring. “I had to stand there in front of the board of my father’s company and ask them to trust me, to wait and to listen to what I had to say when my wife is bringing that kind of toxic, media suicide bullshit into the picture—”

“Please let me explain…”

He shoves his hands back through his hair and starts pacing, the tension ratcheting up in the room so much that Whiskey lifts his head from the bed and watches him from beside me, just as worried as I am.

It’s finally time to tell him everything.

No matter how badly I may not want to.

No matter how much it will hurt.

“He isn’t my boyfriend, Silas.” I inhale deeply, then release it slowly, preparing myself for what I’m going to have to reveal to the man who has already been through the wringer and then some. “He’s my brother.”

Silas’ steps falter, and he freezes, looking over his shoulder at me. “Your brother?”

I nod, picturing the sweet, innocent baby Joey once was, which only makes the tears already threatening finally fall. “My mom never really knew my dad. All he ever gave me was some DNA and his last name before he disappeared. She had my brother when I was thirteen, and she died in a car accident when I was nineteen. He was six, about to be seven, and I couldn’t let him go into foster care…so I petitioned the court to become his legal guardian.”

Silas turns to face me fully, his eyes widening. “At nineteen?”

I offer a half-shrug. “I had graduated high school the year before. I was waitressing and could barely take care of myself. But somehow, I managed to take care of him, too.”

Barely.

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