Page 117 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes
Dom grimaces. For once, he’s smart enough to know when he’s beaten.
He turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
* * *
I’m outside Silas’s loft before eight a.m. The city is still waking up, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t wait any longer. I need to see her, need to make sure she’s still within reach and not slipping further away because of my failures.
Silas opens the door before I even have a chance to knock. I know he’s had some issues with stalkers in the past, so I’m sure he saw me on the cameras.
“She’s not here,” he says, before I can even ask.
I nod once, absorbing the hit. “Where is she?”
He folds his arms across his chest, every inch of him bristling with the silent promise that if I so much as look at him the wrong way, he’ll throw me down the hall without blinking. “Not your concern. Not until you answer one question.”
I meet his stare evenly. “Ask.”
His mouth twists, somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. “Are you in, or are you out? Because if you’re going to half-ass this, I swear to God, Sebastian, I won’t stand by and watch you hurt her again.”
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
“All in.”
Silas searches my face for any sign of weakness, any fracture he can use to justify slamming the door in my face. But there’s nothing for him to find. I stripped away the excuses, the fear, the half-measures weeks ago.
He exhales slowly, but he still doesn’t move. “You walk away again, Sebastian, and you don’t just lose her. You’ll lose us, too. You’ll lose everything.”
“I’m not walking away.” I let the truth cut through every syllable, let him see how deep it’s buried in me now. “Not again. Not ever. There is no future for me without her. I made a mistake because I was scared. I won’t make that mistake again.”
For a long moment, we just stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, finally, Silas steps back, giving me enough space to cross the threshold.
“She’s with Max,” he says gruffly, shutting the door behind me.
I nod, the coil of urgency in my chest easing slightly. “Okay.”
Silas watches me for another beat, then jerks his chin toward the living room. “Sit. We’ve got things to discuss.”
Chapter35
Gen
Max doesn’t tell me where we’re going. He just wakes me with a soft kiss and a says, "Come on, baby. Just us today."
I hesitate for a heartbeat, glancing toward the other side of the bed where Silas is still sleeping. His arm is slung carelessly across my pillow, his hair a mess across his forehead. For a second, I think about burrowing back under the covers, tucking myself against his warmth and pretending the outside world doesn’t exist.
Max sees the thought cross my face. He leans down again, his mouth brushing over my temple in a way that makes me shiver. "Don’t even think about it," he says, voice still rough with sleep but threaded with amusement. "Silas knows. He’s the one who said you needed it."
I squint up at him. "Needed what, exactly?"
Max just grins, infuriatingly smug. "Come on, sweetheart. Trust me."
I grumble under my breath but push back the blankets anyway, feeling instantly exposed to the cool morning air. Max is already moving toward the dresser, tossing me a clean pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts with a casual flick of his wrist.
I love that they don’t expect me to be some designer princess just because their status would normally demand it. I spent my entire life adhering to my parents’ expectations, expectations that included dressing a certain way. Right now, all I care about is comfort. Growing a human is uncomfortable as fuck. I deserve to wear whatever I want.
"Get dressed," he says, his smile widening. "And no questions."
I narrow my eyes at him as I pull the shirt over my head. "You’re enjoying this way too much."
