Chapter 36 Which wife's interest?
CHAPTER 36: Which wife's interest?
Silas
The door opened, and the air in the room instantly soured. I did not look up immediately. I didn’t have to. I kept my focus on the documents I was signing, the ones that Natalie had reminded me of earlier.
Damien stood around, his hands clasped in front of him. Still I didn't acknowledge his presence.
I wanted him to feel the weight of the silence, to realize that in this room, he was nothing more than a glitch in my schedule.
Only when I was signing the last document did I decide to break the silence.
“What can I do for you?”
He chuckled, sharp, low. “I think in this case, it’s me who's going to do something for you.”
Only then did I look up, my gaze as sharp and dispassionate as a surgeon’s blade.
I calmly closed the file and put the pen away.
“I don't recall requesting your presence or anything you may have to offer,” I said, my voice a low, level baritone that vibrated with the threat of a coming storm. “I don't have time for games. What do you want?”
Beating about the bush was no longer on the table. Call it instinct, pure primal male jealousy or ego, nonetheless, I could hardly stand this man.
The smugness, filth and unchecked malice that emanated from him was more reason to loath him.
Damien let out a dry, jagged chuckle, his eyes wandering over the expensive art on my walls with a sickening sense of entitlement.
“Straight to business. I see once again I'm not worthy of the renowned Silas Rutherford hospitality,” he said, eyeing the vacant seats.
A brief glance at my wristwatch. “Your time starts now.”
“I would have asked if you remembered me. If I was just another face in the crowd of people who aren't worth your time. But I think the answer is very obvious.”
I leaned back, and steepled my fingers together, my posture relaxed but my eyes narrowed to slits of cold iron.
“I remember a man who pitched a partnership so transparently fraudulent that I nearly had him escorted out by his collar.” Another glance at my wristwatch. “You have less than the next two minutes to state your mission.”
“Less two minutes," Damien repeated, his smirk widening as he took a bold step closer to my desk. “Right. I'll go straight to the point. I know you recognized me at the hospital. And I'm also aware you recognised me at the gala.”
Now we get to the crux of the matter.
Damien seemed to be expecting a reaction from me. But when he didn’t get any, he continued.
“I’m sure you got suspicious and wanted to know my connection to your wife. Congratulations by the way, on the wedding and the baby,” he said, an edge to his voice.
Heat rose behind my eyes, but I didn't give him the reaction he was fishing for.
I could have security throw him, but I wanted to know what gave him the courage to step into my office.
Or maybe, I wanted to observe him, to see what could have possibly attracted Vera to him.
“Get to your point.”
“I won’t insult your intelligence, Mr Rutherford. You aren't a man who can be easily fooled. I know you already know my history with your wife.”
It was the smugness in his voice that made me lean forward, my eyes blazing with the same intensity as the fire in my veins.
My voice remained flat, chillingly steady.
“Whatever connection you imagine you have with my wife… is dead. It's irrelevant to me. And to her.”
The temperature in the room dropped.
Damien’s bravado faltered. His throat bobbed, slightly nervous.
But I wasn't done, yet.
“If you come near her again, or if I so much as see your shadow within a mile of my property, I will bury every proof of your worthless existence. Now, get out.”
The light amusement disappeared. The corner of his mouth twitched.
Damien didn't move. He tilted his head.
“You’re so protective, Mr Rutherford. It’s almost touching. But tell me, how well do you actually know the woman you’re shielding? In fact,” he paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory malice, “if you knew what I have to show you, I wonder which wife's interests you’d be protecting right now?”
The room seemed to lose its oxygen.
The indirect mention of Simone hit like a silent explosion, sending shrapnels of fury and confusion flooding my veins.
My jaw tightened, a single muscle ticking as I stared him down.
He dared bring Simone into this.
“How dare you?” I hissed. Get out of my office. Now.”
A contented smirk tugged faintly on his lips.
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said, holding up his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender, relishing the tension he had manufactured. “But just so you know, I only met with Vera because she was desperate. She's been begging me to keep her secret from you. She’s terrified of what you’ll do when you finally find out.”
What secret was he talking about?
Maybe he was talking about the baby?
After learning that he was Vera’s ex, I thought he was the baby’s father. But right now, I don't think so. If that was the case, the scumbag before me would have already bragged about it. So, he wasn't the father.
And it wasn’t about the baby.
What was it then?
I was aware of my curiosity, but I wasn't going to play into Vane’s hands.
“I don't care about your fabrications, and I certainly don't care for whatever 'secret' a man of your caliber thinks he can leverage,” I snapped, my pride refusing to show even a flicker of curiosity. “You time is up. Leave. Before I have security handle you.”
His smirk widened into a jagged, triumphant grin. He looked back at me, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Are you sure about that? You really don't want to hear it? Even if that secret has something to do with your late wife, Simone?”