Page 75 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes
Bullshit.
I shift closer, dropping my voice to something softer, something meant only for her. "Genevieve."
Her breath shudders out of her, fogging the window in front of her face. For a second, I think she might actually tell us. But then she closes her eyes, shutting us out again.
"I don’t want to talk about it," she says, barely audible.
Max stiffens, jaw ticking hard enough I can hear his teeth grind. He’s a problem-solver, through and through. He doesn’t know how to sit still in the wreckage.
I catch his eye, a silent warning.
Not yet.
Pushing her when she’s this raw will only drive her deeper into whatever hell she’s trying to claw her way out of. If we want her to trust us with the truth, we have to give her the space to hand it over when she’s ready.
And right now?
She’s not.
Whatever happened back there…it's still too close to the surface. Raw and bleeding. Digging into it now would only make her pull away. I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose her.
Max’s jaw tics, but he backs off, leaning into the seat with a frustrated huff.
The driver merges onto the freeway, the low hum of tires against pavement filling the quiet.
I turn my attention back to Genevieve, watching the delicate tremble of her shoulders, the way she keeps swallowing like she’s fighting to keep it together. Her dress is wrinkled now from where she’s been clutching it, her hair starting to fall a little more limply around her shoulders.
I want to fix it for her. I want to fix everything.
There’s only one reason she would have looked that terrified at a party filled with people she doesn’t even know.
Sebastian.
The bastard was there. I’m sure of it.
Max probably suspects it, too. I can’t tell if he’s connected the dots yet. If he has, he hasn’t said the thing we’re both circling around in our heads.
But I know. Iknow. That baby growing inside her?
It’s his.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, something sour and angry and so far from the easy charm I usually wear that it almost feels foreign. Sebastian is one of my closest friends, but this…this feels unforgivable. Neither of them will talk about it, but something happened between them on that island. And it didn’t end well. And now he’s left her on her own to deal with an unexpected pregnancy.
He’s not the man I thought he was.
I glance at Max again. His hands are fists in his lap, and from the way he’s biting his lip, I know he’s fighting his instincts. He wants to take control, run the show, and fix whatever it is that broke her tonight. He’s playing it cool for her sake, but inside, he’s already building a hundred different battle plans.
I reach out and cover Genevieve’s hand with mine, careful, slow, giving her the chance to pull away if she wants to.
She doesn’t.
She just sits there, letting me anchor her, even if she can’t meet my eyes yet.
"You don't have to talk about it," I say quietly. "Not until you’re ready."
Her fingers twitch under mine. A small, shaky breath slips from her lips. She’s tiny and trembling and so fucking breakable. It makes something primal curl inside of me. She’s mine.
Mine.
