Page 46 of Ugly Truths
I make a mental note to think about it later.
Luis, though—not a chance. Even if I wanted to make the offer, Silas would kill me in my sleep if I even suggested it.
“How the hell am I supposed to prove myself if you don’t even give me a chance?” Jeremy bellows at Silas.
I wince.
Silas hasn’t budged on his decision not to nominate Jeremy for COO, and honestly? That impresses me. I’ve always had to walk a fine line with William—he’s my boss, my father-in-law, and a ruthless son of a bitch. Silas has always been quick to follow his lead, but he’s really started pushing back in the last year or two.
Perhaps it’s the security of having the board’s written approval of the executive transition. Or he's finally sick of his father dictating his every decision. Whatever it is, it makes me happy to see him starting to carve his own path.
Still, I don’t get William’s sudden obsession with the position. For years, there was an unspoken agreement thatthere was no rush to replace Shaw.
Just the thought of that asshole makes my jaw clench, the pressure so sharp it pulses behind my eyes. Shaw should be rotting in a goddamn cell. Or a landfill. If it were up to me, he would be.
I take a breath and then another, tucking the rage into the neat little box I have to file it into within the corner of my mind to keep it under control.
William had decided to take his time to fill any vacant executive positions after Shaw left. He framed it as an opportunity to see our internal team step up to the challenge and allow current directors to grow into the roles before an eventual nomination.
So, why the sudden change of heart for a position that Jeremy fail in, especially when we already have a Director of Operations who is the logical next choice?
“Looks like things are wrapping up,” Leslie notes, which means Jeremy is about to storm out of Silas’s office like a child who just got told no.
On cue, Jeremy yanks the glass door open and stomps down the hallway, muttering under his breath as he ignores both of us. Leslie doesn’t even blink. She just shakes her head slightly before refocusing on her screen.
Silas remains seated at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, chest rising and falling deeply while he tries to put his remaining patience back into place.
I give him a moment to collect himself before pushing myself off the desk and stepping inside. Silas doesn’t even look up as I shut the door.
“Update?” he barks.
My fingers are unbuttoning the front of my suit jacket as I lower myself into Jeremy’s still-warm, abandoned seat. “On Peter or the servers?”
His eyes narrow at the question. “Start with Peter.”
Testier than usual.
“Nothing good.” I lean back into the chair. “From what we understand, he started a legitimate business in the early 2000s as a PI. The details in the middle aren’t clear, but it’s slowly transformed into whatever it is now. Cillian is having a hard time getting anyoneto talk.”
Silas’s jaw tightens. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” I ask, scoffing. “No one wants to be associated with what he does. He’s hired for very specific andillegalpurposes. Most of the information we’re hearing is second-hand through personal assistants or in-home help. He’s been hired for almost everything you can imagine, and his network is vast.”
“A fixer,” Silas concludes, though his frustration doesn’t wane.
I shrug. “To put it simply, sure.”
“I’m assuming his clientele…”
“Our peers and people similar,” I finish his thought. He nods.
“Do we know where he is?”
“We’re working on that,” I answer, and Silas releases a long, irritated breath.
“Okay. The servers,” he says with a wave of his hand.
“The sandbox environment is holding,” I start. “We’ve been running tests all week, mirroring the encryption structures we’re seeing on the servers.”
