Page 38 of Entwined
Silas took my hand, his grip firm but overly familiar. "I'm sorry about your husband," he said, pulling out a chair for me with exaggerated chivalry.
"Thank you. Colson is missed," I replied, settling into the seat. As I did, I noticed a bottle of Macallan on the table, a clear sign that Silas was already indulging in our hospitality.
Silas wasted no time trying to charm me, leaning in with a smirk as he cracked jokes and made small talk. Vaughn, meanwhile, sat brooding, his eyes never leaving Silas. I was relieved when the server arrived to take our orders, providing a brief respite from the tension at the table. But as soon as the server left, Silas resumed his performance, directing most of his conversation toward me.
"So, what do you plan to do after you sell?" Vaughn interrupted, his tone sharp, cutting through Silas’s attempts at banter.
Silas barely glanced at Vaughn, his hand moving to rest on my shoulder, far too familiar for my liking. "Live," he said with a smirk, then turned to me. "I'm sure you understand. You're quite young and should enjoy life."
"Bass, take your hand off her," Vaughn growled, the warning clear in his voice.
I could feel the tension rise, but I didn’t flinch. Silas's behavior was inappropriate, but I didn’t need Vaughn to defend me. I straightened in my chair, locking eyes with Silas.
"Mr. Bass," I said calmly, removing his hand from my shoulder with a firm grip. "I appreciate the sentiment, but let's keep this professional."
Silas chuckled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he realized I wasn't someone to be trifled with. Vaughn’s glare remained intense, but he stayed silent, clearly battling with himself not to say more.
The rest of the dinner was strained, Vaughn’s hostility barely contained and Silas’s charm growing increasingly forced. By the time the meal ended, it was clear that while the merger was on track, the tension between us was far from resolved. As I rose to leave, Vaughn finally spoke, his voice low and tense.
“Next time, we do this my way.”
I met his gaze, refusing to back down. “As long as we’re partners, Vaughn, we do this our way.”
Without waiting for a response, I walked out, feeling Vaughn’s eyes on my back, the battle lines drawn. I wasn’t about to let him win. Not this time.
Chapter 16
I wished I had stayed at the penthouse. Exhaustion weighed on me as Vaughn sat beside me in icy silence, his eyes glued to his phone, pretending I didn’t exist. The limo glided through the night, carrying us back to Windmere Haven, but the tension inside was suffocating. As soon as the car stopped at the front door, I didn’t waste a second, yanking the door open and stepping out into the cool night air.
“You were acting like a fool,” Vaughn hissed, suddenly behind me, his voice low and venomous.
I spun around, anger flaring. “You’re just pissed that another man was paying attention to me.”
His eyes darkened as he grabbed my arm, roughly shoving me inside before slamming the door behind us. The sound echoed through the empty hall.
“My father hasn’t been dead a year, and you’re already charming men into your bed?” he snarled, his grip tightening painfully.
I clenched my jaw, my pulse pounding in my ears. “That’s not what I did. I had no intention of sleeping with him.”
With a sharp twist, I wrenched my arm free and pushed past him, heading for the stairs. But he was relentless, following me step for step, his presence a shadow of rage trailing me down the hall.
“You’re a tease, Josephine. Is that how you caught my father’s eye? Sashaying your ass around, making him think you were worth something?”
The insult cut deep, and before I could stop myself, I whirled around and slapped him, the crack of it hanging in the air between us. For a moment, he was stunned, rubbing his reddened cheek, eyes blazing.
“You talk about respect for your father,” I spat, my voice trembling with fury, “but all you want is to get me into bed. Is that what this is? If I asked you to fuck me right now, would you?”
His eyes narrowed, but the hurt that flashed in them was unmistakable. “Not on your life. I’m done panting after you. You deserve to be alone.”
The words hung heavy between us, both of us breathing hard, the silence broken only by the sound of his retreating footsteps. He stormed off, kicking open the door to his room with a force that made the walls shake.
I stood frozen, the adrenaline draining out of me as exhaustion crept back in. Finally, I turned and slipped into my room, locking the door behind me with trembling fingers.
This was it. The last time I would stay in this house. It was almost November, and as the anniversary of Colson’s death loomed closer, the thought of spending another night here gnawed at my soul. I couldn’t stay. Not anymore.
Thanksgiving arrived with a chill in the air that matched the frost between Vaughn and me. His icy demeanor had only grown more unbearable in the weeks leading up to the holiday. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he announced, with barely concealed disdain, that he was skipping the family gathering and heading to the Bahamas instead.
“I need a break from all of this,” he had said, his voice flat as he packed a suitcase the night before Thanksgiving. “Don’t expect me back until next week.”
