Page 75 of Ugly Truths
“Youronlygirl,” I clarify without much muster. My head falls forward, pressing into the side of his neck where his pulse thumps wildly.
“Yes, Lena,” he confirms, fingers curling to my nape while the hand that just shattered me drags up my thigh, slow and lazy, like he has nowhere else to be. “Only you.”
Chapter 30
Silas
There’s barely time for the timid knock at my office door to register in my mind before it swings open. My father strides in past Leslie, our gazes briefly meeting. Her eyes are wide and cheeks pink. She mouths an apology to me.
I wave her off with a subtle, reassuring nod. Rising from my chair, I button my suit jacket and plaster on a polite smile. “Dad,” I greet him, my tone warm enough to pass as genuine.
Leslie’s eyes flick between us as I approach, clearly debating whether to leave me alone with him. She’s only a few years older than me, but as a mother of two and a longtime witness to my clashes with my father, those maternal instincts tend to kick in. In the almost decade she’s been my secretary, she never breathed a critical word about him until about a year ago.
William and I thought we were alone on the floor that evening and in the middle of a loud, vicious argument in my office when we noticed a faint movement through the glass wall near Leslie’s desk. She was sitting there, trying to disappear into her chair while working on her computer.
Only after my father left did Leslie come in, apologizing. She stayed late to finish some paperwork. I told her there was nothing to forgive, thanked her for her hard work, and wished her a nice evening. As she turned to leave the doorway, she paused and spoke so softly that I almostmissed it.
“A parent should never speak to their child that way.”
The funny part about it is, I don’t even remember the insults my father hurled at me now.
Leslie’s concerned gaze stirs the dormant ache for my own mother, growing where the comfort used to be. William brushes past me, his focus already on my desk as his fingers trail over the back of my chair.
“Run along,” he mutters absently, lowering himself into it with all the grace of a king settling onto his throne.
My jaw tightens as Leslie steps out silently, shutting the door behind her. William leans back, his hands on the armrests, surveying the room.
I step away, positioning myself near the window and leaning against the credenza with my arms loosely crossed.
“Can I get you something?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral. “Coffee? Water?”
"Cut the act, Silas. I'm not here for pleasantries," he begins, crossing one leg over the other. “I’ve given you enough time to collect yourself since our last conversation,” he says. “I’d like to discuss how you acted during the board meeting.”
“What about it?”
William exhales. “You let Jeremy flounder,” he answers. “What were you thinking, shutting down his proposal in front of the board like that?”
“That it wasn’t a good proposal?”
His expression hardens. “It wasn’t ready. You had the opportunity to shape it and make it viable, but instead, you left him twisting in the wind.”
A clipped laugh escapes me.
“That’s rich coming from you.” I slowly cross the office, hands coming together behind my back. “Do you remember the topic of the first proposal I brought to the board?”
When he doesn’t respond, I continue, “A strategic expansion into sustainable manufacturing by partnering with a new firm and integrating greener production practices.”
William scoffs at the reminder. “It was a terrible idea.”
I smirk. "You and the board made sure I knew. Tore it apart, said I didn’t get margins and that 'sustainability' was a buzzword."
My father’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak. I walk the length of the room. “The next time I wanted to present an idea, I looked at it from every perspective possible before bringing it forward.” I turn to face him fully. “Why would Jeremy be an exception to that?”
William doesn’t hesitate. “Because we both know Jeremy can use all the help he can get. You made him look like a fool in front of the people he was trying to impress.”
Not criticism, not guidance.Help. Because my brother can’t possibly do it himself. We need to hold his hand through it so heandmy father don’t look bad.
I release a fraction of my growing irritation in a long breath.
