The deafening crash of the heavy oak door hitting the wall sent a violent shockwave through the sterile room. My stomach dropped all over again as the towering silhouette stepped fully into the harsh fluorescent light. The jagged black serpent tattoo winding up his neck was unmistakable. It was Silas. The man Richard swore had been permanently “dealt with” five years ago. The man who knew exactly where Richard’s dirty fortune actually came from.
Richard’s high-priced attorney leaped out of his seat, furiously shouting about calling building security, but Silas ignored him completely. He locked his piercing, ice-cold eyes entirely on my ex, sauntering into the room with the predatory grace of a wolf cornering a wounded rabbit.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, little brother,” Silas murmured. His voice was a low, gravelly purr, laced with a dangerous, unspoken threat that made the air in the room feel suffocatingly thick.
I watched Richard—the supposedly untouchable, arrogant billionaire—visibly shrink into his custom-tailored suit. His hands were shaking so violently that the wax-sealed photograph I had given him slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the expensive carpet. It was a picture of Silas, very much alive, holding the ledger for the offshore accounts Richard had illegally drained to build his empire.
“H-how are you here?” Richard stammered, his polished veneer shattering into a million pathetic pieces. “I paid them… you were supposed to be gone. You can’t be here.”
With my heart racing frantically against my ribs, I backed slowly away from the mahogany table. I had orchestrated this collision to save my son, but the raw, unhinged energy radiating from Silas meant true, helpless panic surged through me. I suddenly realized I didn’t know if I had just summoned a savior, or a monster who was about to destroy us both.
Silas slowly circled the table, his heavy boots thudding against the floor like a death knell. He stopped right behind Richard’s chair, leaning down until his lips were inches from his brother’s ear.
“You thought taking her baby would break her? You thought you could just buy the judge and walk away clean?” Silas smirked, his eyes briefly flicking over to mine, making a terrifying chill run down my spine.
He reached into his scarred leather jacket and tossed a crumpled, blood-stained manila folder right onto the fake custody documents.
“You’re fighting a war for nothing, Richard,” Silas whispered, his voice dripping with lethal amusement as he dropped the ultimate bombshell. “Did you really think that baby was yours?”
Before I could even process the horrifying reality that Silas knew my darkest, most deeply buried secret—a secret I thought I had hidden from everyone—the sudden, piercing wail of police sirens erupted from the street below, and Silas unzipped his jacket to reveal what he had brought with him.
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