He doesn’t give two shits. Silas, the one who wanted this event canceled but I play along. Knowing he has an agenda.
“It’s very lovely.”
His neck arches in acknowledgment of the room. “Everything is in dedication of Camellia.”
I raise a brow, so that was his wife’s name. Why did it sound so familiar?Camellia. I bet she was as beautiful as her name.
“I’m not sure if Cole has ever mentioned it but she died of suicide. My weakened son was the one to find her after he got home from school,” he says, not sounding one bit remorseful for ColeorCamellia.
I breathe through my nose a low rumble building its way up my chest. My hand tightened around the stem of my glass. How could he talk so simply of this? With so little value for anyone but himself.
“My son doesn’t realize it, but his mother made him soft,” he adds, and my upper lip thins out. “Although he did always have a fascination with things that were broken.”
Silas’s eyes gleam, shooting me a knowing look before raising his flute to his mouth. I noticed it was bare. Not a ring in sight on his hand.
My eyes narrow, what game was he playing.
His lip curls. “I had given him and his mother everything they could have wished for and more in this world. Money, stability, a network”—except love — “and it still wasn’t enough.”
This man was merciless. My insides drop as pain slices down the middle of my stomach when he opens his mouth again. Knowing nothing good ever comes out.
“Much as he tried, he couldn’t fix her, couldn’t save her.Hewasn’t enough.”
Silas was talking about Cole.Healso says it as casually as if we were talking about the weather.
“Why are you telling me this?” I grit out. My tone under control, barely.
He looks down at me and something flashes across his eyes, but he blinks it away immediately. Thrusting his jaw forward, he says, “I can tell you fascinate my son, much as he’d hate to agree he and I are a lot alike.”
“…And?”
“Does there have to be an and?” he muses.
There does when it involves you,I want to say but don’t.
“You don’t know a thing about your son,” I defend, resisting the urge to smack him.
Silas sighs like he pitied me. “You haven’t been here long enough to know how things work. You don’t get in my position of power without breaking things.”
“Your point?” I ask, keeping my face guarded.
He doesn’t answer right away. Confident as ever acknowledging guests as they walk by. Acting like he wasn’t keeping me on edge with every passing second.
“A warning, Rory, from someone with more…” He pauses. Twirling his drink in the air like he was deciding how he wanted to phrase what to say next. “…life experience.”
I blink hard.
“A dollar may be worth more than a quarter, but paper is easy to manipulate. Metal is harder to break.”
Swallowing, I concealed the hurt in my eyes. The hardness in his shifted into something I couldn’t describe. The only thing keeping me from deflating is not wanting him to see that he got to me.
I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He smirks, somehow still knowing he had.
Someone says his name. Tipping his head back, the liquid easily slides down his throat.
“Enjoy the evening,” Silas states before leaving.
I was in a roomful of people and yet after this one conversation, I suddenly felt emptier than I had in years.