MAYA
My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
The words were right there, resting on the tip of my tongue: Then let me leave.
The solution was simple.
At this point, a prison cell for my father felt like a fair trade for my own freedom.
Arthur could face the consequences of his own choices.
If he had to serve time, so be it.
Anything was better than being collateral for people who treated humans like animals.
Isabella didn’t wait for Silas to answer.
She leaned into him, her hand sliding up his arm to grip his bicep as she glared at me.
“I still don’t see why we’re wasting the effort.
Why spend millions on a performance with her when I’m right here?
I’m the one you chose, Silas.
I’m the one in your bed.
We wouldn’t have to pretend if it were me.”
”Know your place, Isabella.” Viktor didn’t even raise his voice, which made the words cut deeper.
“You have just enough value to occupy a bed, but not enough to occupy a seat in this conversation.
You are not a Blackwood.
You never will be.
Shut your mouth before I lose my patience.”
The color drained from Isabella’s face.
Her mouth hung open as she looked at Silas for help, but he didn’t even blink.
He just took a slow, calm sip of his coffee.
My head dipped low, hiding the small, involuntary snort that almost escaped.
Isabitch had it coming.
That should keep her quiet for at least a few minutes.
“Silas,” Viktor called out, “has she been briefed on her duties?
Or is she as dim-witted as she is mannerless?”
”She’s been briefed.”
“Or do I need to step in?
My methods for ensuring loyalty are much more effective than your patience.”
”She’ll do it,” Silas said firmly.
His eyes locked onto his father’s, refusing to back down.
Viktor ignored him, pointing a finger in my direction.
“Listen well, girl.
If you ruin our plan, if you so much as whisper the truth to the wrong person or try to run away, I will make sure you—”
The violent screech of Silas’s chair against the marble floor cut him off mid-threat.
Silas stood up, the clink of his porcelain cup against the saucer sounding like a final warning.
He smoothed the front of his suit jacket, looking completely fed up.
“We’re done here,” he announced.
He didn’t look at Isabella, and he didn’t look at his father.
His gaze landed on me.
“Get up.
We’re going to be late.”
The command caught me mid-bite, a piece of half-chewed toast still in my mouth.
I looked up, startled.
Less than half my plate was finished.
“See?” Viktor scoffed, gesturing toward my full mouth.
“If she doesn’t even have the sense to listen to you in private, how will she ever behave in public?”
”I said,” Silas repeated, his hand gripping the back of his chair until his knuckles turned white, “we are leaving.
The car is waiting.”
He turned and walked out without a backward glance.
My stomach was still half-empty and pleading for more, but the intensity in his eyes hadn’t left any room for argument.
Staying was no longer an option.
I pushed back from the table so fast my chair nearly hit the floor with a clatter.
“Bye, my love,” Isabella cooed from the table behind me.
I didn’t wait to hear another word.
I just hurried after Silas.
As the driveway of the Blackwood estate faded behind us, I leaned my head against the cool, tinted glass.
The passing trees became my sole focus, a way to avoid looking at Silas.
I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much Viktor and Isabella’s words had actually stung.
“Head to the Gilded Rose,” Silas told the driver.
The change in direction was unexpected.
“We’re not going to the office?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, though my voice sounded steadier than I felt.
“No,” he said, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“We need to stop somewhere first.”
His tone didn’t invite follow-up questions, so I didn’t offer any.
The silence settled between us again like a wall.
“You’ve been very quiet,” Silas noted after a few blocks.
His voice was low, filling the small space of the car.
I finally turned to him.
“Good behavior earns a negotiation.
Those were your words, weren’t they?”
He nodded.
“They were.”
”Then I’m practicing,” I said.
“Good behaviour is the currency for negotiation, isn’t it?”
Silas shifted in his seat, a flicker of something crossing his face.
“But it’s—”
”I know the plan, Silas,” I interrupted.
“It’s early.
We aren’t engaged yet.
There’s no room for negotiation, so I’m staying quiet.
Isn’t that what you wanted?”
His blue eyes searched mine, looking for a break in my composure.
“You really want out that badly?”
”Yes.” I held his gaze just long enough to make sure he felt the weight of the word.
Then, I turned back to the window before he could see the moisture blurring my vision.
“More than anything.