Page 112 of Ugly Truths
There’s a brief pause, and his hand twitches lightly in mine before he exhales. “Elena, I want you to know you always have a room at my hous—”
“Luis,” Silas’s voice cuts through the room. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to be on our way.”
Luis’s fingers contract as he glances toward Silas in the doorway, who is now wearing a coat. There's a short moment when I think Luis might not listen, but he suddenly stands, pulling me with him. Before I can blink, he is wrapping me in a hug that lasts seconds longer than it probably should.
I pat his back a bit awkwardly. “Let me know when you’re home and settled,” I tell my friend, pulling back.
The look in his eyes can’t be described as anything other than unsatisfied. “I will,” he promises.
Behind us, Silas clears his throat. Luis releases me, though his hand lingers briefly on my arm before stepping away. When I turn, Silas is already there, a hand settling firmly on the small of my back as he gives me my bag before draping the coat over the tops of my shoulders.
Silas guides me toward the front door, Luis trailing behind us. When we reach the entryway, I spot Cora, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. Silas acknowledges her with a smile before turning back to Luis.
“Cora will be taking you to your next destination,” Silas says, his tone polite but curt. “She’ll ensure you get home undetected and safe.”
Luis nods toward Cora, though his eyes flick back to me once more, lingering. Silas pulls me a fraction closer to him, and whatever Luis was about to say stays unsaid.
“Take care, Elena,” he says finally, his voice softer now.
“You too,” I reply, matching his tone.
Cora gestures for Luis to follow her toward the garage entrance, and he does, the steps slow and reluctant. When they round the corner and are out of sight, Silas leads me to the front door.
The black town car waits just beyond the gate, sleek and gleaming in the October sun. The clear blue skies feel almost too nice for the occasion. Silas opens the back door for me with practiced ease. I slide into the cool leather seat and wait for Silas to circle the car to the opposite side. Cillian is looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“Good morning, Elena,” he says with a faint trace of warmth.
“Hi Cill,” I reply. Things between us have softened a little since I started working out with Jeff in the basement.
Silas gets into the car a moment later, but instead of settling near the door, he keeps moving until his thigh presses fully against mine. His hand lands on my leg, the palm firm against the fabric of my dress.
I raise an eyebrow at him, tilting my head slightly. “Are you alright?” I ask.
He leans in, his grip on my thigh tightening before his mouth claims mine. There’s no hesitation. Only heat and something sharper as he presses into me. The small breath I manage to suck in is all the permission he needs to evade my mouth, tongue and teeth claiming me. For a second, I remember Cillian is in the front seat. It’s too bold, too intimate—but the thought barely forms before it disintegrates. The weight of Silas and the way he moves against me drowns out everything else.
By the time he finally pulls back, my heart is thundering. I force my expression into something close to neutral, even though my pulse betrays me.
A streak of dark red stains Silas’s mouth. I let out a breathy laugh. With a trembling hand, I brush my thumb across his lips to clean them off. He lets me, the hardness in his eyes softening with every swipe of my finger.
When I finish, his smirk curves into a real smile. “You’ll need to fix your own.”
I roll my eyes, muttering under my breath as I dig through my bag for my compact and lipstick tube. Silas shifts his attention to the front and gives Cillian a nod.
“Let’s get this over with,” he says on a tired exhale.
“Yes, sir,” Cillian replies smoothly, the engine humming to life as the car pulls away from the house.
His taste lingers on my tingling lips, and I focus on fixing my lipstick instead of dwelling on it. Silas’s neutrality returns, and he says nothing more. Whatever he feels, whatever that kiss was meant to convey, I know better than to ask.
Chapter 44
Silas
If there was one thing my father excelled at, it was being prepared foralmostanything. After my mother passed, he pre-planned his own services and paid for them in full, down to the smallest detail. It was entirely self-serving, of course, but now I can almost imagine him rolling over in his grave, knowing how much easier he’s made it for Natalie and me to put on a performance for the rest of the world.
The services are being held at Holy Name Cathedral because God forbid he do anything understated. The cathedral’s towering spires, intricate stonework, and gilded accents fit perfectly with the larger-than-life image he always cultivated. Even so, there’s barely enough room for all who came. By the time we arrive with most of my team in tow—purposefully just before the start of the service to avoid lingering conversations I have no patience for—most of the seats are already taken by colleagues, extended family, and old friends.
Leaving Cillian at the guarded door, I lead Elena down the long center aisle toward the front row where Jeremy, Natalie, and Davey are already seated. With a firm hand, I guide Elena to lead us into the pew. Jeremy stands and offers us a small nod, averting his gaze. I clap him on the shoulder and give a small squeeze, anyway. Davey and Natalie also stand, both offering brief hugs before we make our way to the empty spots next to them.
