Chapter 11 Collateral
CHAPTER 11: Collateral
Silas
The silence in my office was relatively calm as I went through the papers my assistant had delivered earlier.
Chauncey leaned against the far bookshelf, arms folded across his chest, his posture casual, his expression anything but.
He had stuck around since we left Vera's apartment.
I wondered if he had no art exhibitions to skulk around or no enamored girls to play with.
I could feel his gaze burning holes into my head.
“Out with it, or out with you, Chaunce,” I said, head still bent over my desk.
“You’re really going through with this,” he finally said. “You’re really going to make a mess of her life.”
I didn’t look up. “Yes.”
A beat of silence.
“Silas,” he tried again, voice harder now. He pushed off the shelf and took a step closer, “you’re not blind. You know exactly how this is going to end. You can't claim ignorance of the fact that when all this is over, her life could be permanently ruined. You and Natalie.”
I capped my pen slowly and placed it down with deliberate care.
When I finally lifted my gaze to him, my expression was calm, measured, and deliberately neutral.
“How this ends,” I said evenly, “is irrelevant at this point.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit.”
I didn’t correct him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re dragging this girl into something that could destroy her life,” he continued, voice lower now, sharper. “She’s not built for this world. She’s…different. You know that. You can fucking see that, brother.”
“I can,” I replied lightly.
That threw him off balance.
“She agreed,” I added coolly. “With full knowledge of what exactly she was stepping into. I didn’t withhold a single thing from her.”
He scoffed.
“Did she?” he shot back. “How noble of you.” He shook his head. “Is this really her choice, or did she agree because she felt cornered?”
I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled.
“Consent doesn’t become invalid because it makes you uncomfortable. You of all people should know that.”
He exhaled through his nose, pacing once before turning back to me.
“This is not about me, Silas. You’re treating her like collateral.”
“No. I’m treating her like an adult who made a decision,” I corrected. “A conscious decision. One she deemed necessary. One she’s willing to stand by.”
My younger brother’s expression had shifted…less amused, less flippant.
This wasn't the Chauncey who treated life like an open bar.
This was the one who saw the edges before they cut. The deeper Chauncey who couldn't stand seeing a helpless person mistreated.
“Jesus Christ, man. She's doing this for her sister,” he snapped. “For survival. Not because she wanted this,” he exploded. “Not because she wanted to become your fake wife who'd turn into a national pariah at the end of two fucking years.”
“Motives don’t change outcomes.”
His laugh was short and humorless. “God, you really are something else,” he shook his head. “She’s young,” he pressed. “She’s scared. And in case it conveniently slipped your mind, there’s a child involved.”
I shot him a knowing look.
“You’re not just risking her anymore,” he went on carefully. “There’s a child involved. An innocent one. Whether you like it or not, you’re pulling that child into this too.”
My jaw clenched.
“Careful,” I warned, quietly.
“No, brother. You don’t get to pretend that doesn’t matter,” he added. “Not after—”
“Don't,” I said, sharply.
He straightened. “You don’t get to shut this down just because it’s uncomfortable.”
“I said, careful.”
He was stalking dangerously close to a topic I had deemed totally off the table.
The death of my child…with Simone.
“You almost had a child once,” he said, softer now, but no less reckless. “You of all people should know what that kind of collateral damage could do to a child.” He paused briefly. “Do you think that Simone would have—”
“That’s enough,” I rose to my feet, slamming my hand on the desk, my voice cold, cutting and final.
Chauncey neither flinched nor cowered.
He held his ground. Just like he always did when he was standing up for what he believed in.
The room seemed to shrink around us.
“Do not,” I said, stepping closer, my voice low and dangerous, “bring that into this conversation. Ever.”
His mouth opened, then closed.
For a moment, something like regret flickered across his face…but it didn’t last.
“This ends badly,” he said instead. “You know that.”
“Everything does,” I replied. “Some things are simply… useful before they do.”
There was a brief knock and the door opened without waiting for a reply.
Natalie entered and her presence shifted the atmosphere instantly.
She took a second, pausing to assess the room, then her gaze flicked to Chauncey who took a step back, dragging his hand down his face, before it settled back on me.
“Your guest has confirmed. He's on his way,” she said smoothly. “Arrival approximately around thirty minutes.” Then, after a brief pause, “And Miss Bennett has arrived. She’s waiting in the guest bedroom.”
Chauncey smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You must be thrilled your plans are progressing?”
Natalie didn’t blink. “That might be a bit much,” she deadpanned. “Pleased, would do.”
Chauncey exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
“I can’t watch this,” he muttered. “Not tonight.”
He walked past Natalie without a word, pausing only briefly at the doorway.
“For what it’s worth, brother,” he said over his shoulder, “I hope you’re right.”
Then he was gone.
Natalie turned to me, one brow lifting slightly.
“Are you certain this girl won’t complicate things?” she asked.
“She won’t,” I said without hesitation.
She scoffed. “And you’re so confident because…?”
“Because she knows what she stands to lose,” I replied. “Give people the solution to their problems and they'll open that door…no matter where it leads.”
Even as I said the words, I was deeply aware that I was trying to convince myself that I wasn’t ruining Vera's life.
Natalie's lips curved faintly. “Desperation is a strong motivator.”
“It’s a reliable one.”
She studied me for a moment longer than necessary. Then she tilted her head, thoughtful.
“She’s quite beautiful,” she said lightly. “Young, too. Fragile in a way people underestimate.”
I didn't reply to her.
She pressed, watching my face closely. “She reminds me a little of someone.”
I stared at her, a silent warning.
But when had Natalie ever backed down.
A faint smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. “Simone.”
Something sharp twisted in my chest.
I turned to her slowly.
“Don’t,” I said.
Natalie didn't flinch. She just folded her arms across her chest, and tilted her head a little.
Maybe I hadn’t noticed, maybe I had…right from the first day.
Vera bore a certain resemblance to my late wife.
I had ignored it, refusing to accept it. But Natalie had a habit of never letting sleeping dogs lie.
“I’m only observing,” she replied calmly.
“I'm getting pissed,” I snapped. “And you’re overstepping.”
Her gaze held mine, steady and unafraid.
“Am I? Or are you?”
Silence stretched between us.
“So tell me,” she continued, her tone deceptively casual. “Is this going to remain strictly business… or do you intend to cross the line with her?”
“This is my business,” I reminded her. “Not yours.”
Her smile faded, but she inclined her head in acknowledgment.
“Of course. As long as you remember what is at stake here, then we're good.”
I didn’t wait for a response.
I pulled open the drawer in my desk and took the small box that I had delivered earlier today.
I left the office, my footsteps measured as I moved down the hall toward the guest wing.
Towards Vera.
I knocked once, and when there was no answer, I pushed it open.
The room was empty.
For a moment, confusion and irritation arose, sharp and immediate.
There was a tray of food, a bottle of wine, and an empty wine glass sitting on the table.
But no sign of Vera.
Then I heard it.
Water.
The unmistakable sound of the shower running behind the closed bathroom door.
Someone was taking a bath.