I hug Oliver first—his handshake-turned-embrace brief, firm, no excess. Then Killian pulls me in, clapping my back with a laugh that echoes down the hall. “Good to see you guys,” I say honestly.
“You know where to find me if you wanna see me more often,” Oliver replies, voice even, a faint Texan drawl threading through his calm delivery.
“Right. I just have to fly into the middle of nowhere and roast in 115-degree heat.”
“That’s only in the summer, man.” He exhales through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching in quiet amusement as we head toward the elevator. “Texas has all four seasons.”
“Exactly why Miami wins. We get spring and summer on repeat.”
“And hurricanes…” Killian mutters under his breath, shaking his head, his smirk daring me to argue.
“Oh yeah? What about San Francisco?” I shoot back, lifting a brow at him. “Are your earthquakes more entertaining?”
We all laugh as the elevator doors open, and we step into Silas’s office. I’m actually looking forward to seeing him. I’ve been meaning to talk. Hoping we’ll have a minute alone when?—
I freeze.
Lauren Green is in his office. Chatting casually with my brother like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“Bunny?” I blurt.
“Lauren,” Silas corrects me, like I just insulted royalty.
Lauren Green is Silas’s assistant now? This has to be a joke.
I glance at my brother and catch the look on his face. His mouth doesn’t move, but his eyes track her every step. I know that look. Always have. A predator watching prey.
When she leaves, I drop into the chair across from him, still thrown. My knee bounces. Why would Lauren work for him? After the way he treated her? But there’s something different in the way Silas sits now—shoulders loose, jaw unclenched. He even deflects when Kill takes a jab at her, his lips twitching into something dangerously close to a smile.
Interesting. My laugh almost slips out—until it hits me. We’re both doing it. Falling for Green girls. Again.
Later, after the meeting, Killian, Oliver, and I head for dinner. Silas waves us off, says he’ll walk Lauren home. Figures.
Dinner with my brothers is the usual. Oliver scrolls through the steak menu with the same focus he gives to property contracts. He talks about acreage, livestock, weather patterns in Texas like they’re quarterly reports. He swears ranch life makes him happy, and I want to believe him—but the way he lingers over the wine list, like it’s the only indulgence he’ll allow himself, makes me wonder.
Killian’s the opposite. He barely touches his food, too busy angling his phone for the right shot, sleeve rolled back just enough to show ink. His notifications buzz nonstop—Silicon Valley billionaires, brands begging him to post. He grins like theworld is in on the joke, the charming little shit. Emma would eat him up.
No, Luca. Don’t go there.
When Silas finally shows, his tie is gone, sleeves rolled, and there’s a rare ease to his stride. My mouth jumps ahead of my brain.
“So, why is Lauren Green working in your office?” I ask, leaning back in my chair like I’m bored, even though my chest is tight. “And don’t pull that stunt you did this afternoon again. We need to know what we’re up against.”
Great excuse. The truth? I just want to know if Emma’s in on this.
“When was the last time you told me who your assistant was?” Silas fires back. “If I’m not mistaken, you go through then every three months or whatever you need to explain that ‘you’re just screwing around.”
That stings. But I breathe through it and keep going. “So… have you fucked her yet?”
He looks away. Which, to me, is confirmation enough. And yet, somehow… that makes it worse. I tell myself it makes me feel better that I slept with Emma two days ago. I tell myself it would get her out of my system.Yeah, look how well that turned out.
I can’t stop thinking about her. Her moans. My hands on her hips…
Stop it.
Now.
“Why?” Silas asks, his voice unexpectedly harsh.
