Something inside me broke. Six years of hurt, pain, and rage erupted all at once.
"What gives you the right?" I shouted at him. "Did you forget what you did? Six years ago, you let your father and Vanessa take Olei from me the second he was born. I didn't even get to see him before I was deported. And you—you lied to me the whole time for your damn gangster alliance. You're nothing but a bastard!"
Silas shook his head. He reached for me, but I jerked away. So he stood there, expression twisted in pain.
"I didn't," he said, throat tight. "Anthea, I didn't do those things. The day you gave birth, I wasn't at the manor. I was dealing with Tomaso's mess. By the time I got back, everyone told me you died in childbirth. For six years, I've thought about you every single day."
I froze. What was he saying?
Believing him would be like sticking my hand back into the same trap that broke my fingers. I wasn't that stupid. Not twice.
"You told me when I was pregnant that I'd always be the mother, that I'd have the right to see him. And then what?" I stepped back, voice sharp. "You always lie. Nothing you say is true."
"I meant those words." His voice grew desperate. "Anthea, I'm a bastard—I know that. I failed you. But I never lied about this. I love you. I've always loved you. Every second of six years, I thought about you. Why the hell would I want you gone?"
"Is this your new game, Silas?" I looked at him coldly, voice dripping with mockery. "No matter what you say or do, I won't fall for it again."
I turned and walked away without looking back.
Chapter Twelve
Silas
That dinner was over. Anthea left me. Chose to let that lawyer drive her home. After the bodyguards took Olei away, my eyes locked onto Julian's car. Anthea sat inside, breathing the same air as another man in that enclosed space. Jealousy seized my chest.
Julian's car drove smoothly. I kept three cars back, watched them cut through downtown streets, then vanish around a corner. I pressed the gas.
An hour later, Julian's car stopped outside Anthea's building. I parked in the shadows down the street, killed the lights. Through the windshield, I watched Julian get out, circle around to open her door like some goddamn gentleman.
Then they stood under a streetlamp, chatting and laughing. Anthea's blonde hair caught the light, soft and glowing. Her smile bright enough to burn. Julian said something. She laughed harder. Then I watched that glasses-wearing piece of shit reach out, trying to touch her hair.
My palm slammed the steering wheel. The horn blared, sharp and loud.
"Fuck!" I cursed under my breath.
Anthea and Julian both turned, looking my direction. But with the distance and my lights off, they couldn't see who was inside. I watched Julian's hand freeze mid-air, then drop awkwardly. Good. He didn't try again, just talked with Anthea a bit more, all proper and stiff.
Finally, Anthea hesitated, said something, then turned and went inside. Julian stood there watching until a light flickered on the third floor. Only then did he reluctantly get back in his car and leave.
I pulled out my phone. The screen glow lit my expressionless face.
"Do it." Just those two words into the phone.
I hung up and looked up at that third-floor window. Warm yellow light in the darkness, almost cozy. I got out, crossed to the building opposite. Elevator straight to the third floor. Opened the door, walked straight to the telescope already set up.
Through the lens, Anthea had already kicked off her heels. She paced around the living room, looking restless. She raised a hand, rubbed her temple tiredly. Then she stopped, shook her head, and started unbuttoning her blouse. I held my breath.
The white blouse landed on the couch. Black lace bra underneath. Black fabric against her honey-toned skin, the visual hit like a punch to the skull. Her breasts full and high, rising and falling with each breath. Her waist still slender but no longer fragile. Christ, she'd been working out.
My throat worked hard, swallowing. Her skirt slid down her legs. Black thong. Fuck, that's what she'd been wearing to dinner with that lawyer—barely anything at all. But heat flooded my groin. My cock surged, already hard.
My gaze roamed her body, licking over every inch of skin. She lingered in the living room a moment, then headed toward the bathroom.
"No!" I adjusted the telescope frantically, trying to see through that goddamn wall. Useless.
The helplessness, the loss of control—it made me rage. We were so close. I couldn't fucking see her, couldn't control every second of her existence.
"Fuck!" I kicked over the chair beside me.
