Chapter 6 - The Night Wren Chose Him
The leak was Matthew.
The driver Silas had sent to Wren’s apartment.
He had worked for Wentworth security for seven years.
No disciplinary problems.
Wife.
Two children.
Mortgage in New Jersey.
And $412,000 in gambling debt.
Dane had owned him for three years.
Lena discovered the messages at 5:40 in the morning.
By six, Matthew was gone.
Not escaped.
Fired.
His records turned over to federal investigators.
Wren found Silas standing beside the private elevators afterward.
“You trusted him.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She studied him.
“You say that whenever anyone shows you sympathy.”
“Because sympathy is rarely useful.”
“Maybe you’re surrounded by the wrong people.”
Silas looked at her.
“That possibility has recently occurred to me.”
Their relationship changed after that night.
Not suddenly.
Not safely.
Wren returned to work under different supervision.
Silas stopped pretending he didn’t know her schedule.
She stopped pretending she didn’t notice when he appeared in the lobby exactly as her shift ended.
Sometimes they ate breakfast in the empty hotel restaurant at five in the morning.
Nothing elaborate.
Coffee.
Toast.
Eggs.
Wren learned Silas hated blueberries and loved terrible diner pancakes.
Silas learned Wren sang quietly while polishing silver when she thought nobody could hear.
He also learned she sent half her paycheck toward Emma’s tuition savings.
“You can stop doing that,” he said one morning.
Wren put down her coffee.
“Excuse me?”
“Emma qualifies for the Wentworth education grant.”
“Did you arrange that?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes.
Silas added, “I checked.”
“That’s arranging-adjacent.”
“It already existed.”
“Would she have gotten it before you knew me?”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Silas stared.
Wren smiled.
“I’m joking.”
“I can produce the policy documentation.”
“I know you can. That’s why it’s funny.”
Silas shook his head.
Wren watched him.
He looked different when he was not performing power for rooms.
Younger.
Almost gentle.
She hated how much she noticed.
One week later, Emma received the grant through the normal application process.
Wren cried in a staff bathroom.
She never told Silas.
He knew anyway.
Then came Sunday.
The hotel hosted no major events.
Silas invited Wren to the rooftop after her shift.
“That sounds inappropriate,” she told him.
“It’s a roof.”
“You own the roof.”
“I own most of the building beneath it too.”
“Not helping.”
He smiled.
“Ten minutes.”
She agreed.
They stood beneath heaters overlooking Manhattan.
Wren held a paper cup of coffee.
Silas wore no tie.
“It’s strange up here,” she said.
“How?”
“The city looks quiet.”
“It never is.”
“I know.”
Silas leaned against the railing.
“Why did you stay with Harlow?”
Wren’s body tightened.
He immediately regretted asking.
“You don’t have to answer.”
“No.”
She looked across the skyline.
“I should.”
Silas waited.
“He wasn’t always cruel.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Men who are always monsters rarely get invited inside.”
Wren looked at him.
“Yes.”
She took a breath.
“My mother died. Emma was seventeen. I was twenty-four and terrified about everything. Bills, rent, work. Evan showed up and handled things.”
Silas said nothing.
“He changed the locks. Called insurance. Dealt with paperwork. Drove Emma to school. When you’re drowning, a person who knows exactly what to do feels like a miracle.”
“Until he became the water.”
Wren’s eyes turned toward him.
“Yes.”
Silas understood more than she realized.
Power could become addiction for the person holding it and shelter for the person beneath it.
Until shelter became a cage.
“The first time he hit me, he cried harder than I did,” she said.
Silas’s jaw tightened.
“He promised therapy. He went twice.”
“And the second time?”
“He blamed alcohol.”
“Third?”
“Me.”
Silas looked away because if he kept watching her, anger would replace listening.
Wren continued.
“When I left, he told me nobody would believe me because he was the cop and I cleaned hotel rooms.”
Silas’s voice became cold.
“He was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“How did you finally leave?”
“Emma.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing.”
Wren smiled sadly.
“She saw me put concealer over a bruise one morning. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at me.”
“And?”
“I realized I was teaching her what love looked like.”
Silas understood that sentence more than he wanted.
Silence stretched.
Wren looked at him.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why no wife?”
“Work.”
“Terrible answer.”
“It’s true.”
“No girlfriends?”
“Not recently.”
“How recently?”
Silas smiled faintly.
“You’ve become invasive.”
“Character growth.”
He looked across the city.
“Seven years.”
Wren blinked.
“You haven’t dated in seven years?”
“I’ve had dinner with women.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because eventually people become something your enemies can use.”
Wren stared.
“You really believe that.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It’s efficient.”
“Those aren’t opposites.”
Silas looked at her.
Something shifted.
Wren felt it.
She should have changed the subject.
Instead, she whispered, “Is that what I am?”
“What?”
“Something someone can use against you?”
Silas did not answer.
That was an answer.
Wren stepped backward.
“This was a mistake.”
“Wren.”
“No.”
She moved toward the rooftop door.
Silas caught her hand.
Not hard.
Barely enough to stop her.
She looked down.
He immediately released it.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
She stared.
Silas rarely looked uncertain.
Now he did.
“I don’t know what this is.”
Wren’s voice softened.
“Neither do I.”
“You work for me.”
“Yes.”
“That matters.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want you wondering whether saying no will cost you anything.”
Her face changed.
Silas continued.
“So nothing happens.”
Wren’s heart hurt unexpectedly.
“Nothing?”
“Not while you work here.”
She understood.
The restraint mattered more than any seduction would have.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They stood there too long.
Then Wren smiled.
“You’re surprisingly decent for a terrifying billionaire.”
“Don’t damage my reputation.”
She laughed.
Silas watched her.
That was when an explosion shook the building.
Not large.
But close.
The rooftop lights flickered.
Alarms started.
Silas grabbed Wren and pulled her down.
“What happened?”
He touched his earpiece.
Nothing.
Communications dead.
Lena’s voice came through seconds later, distorted.
“Silas, east transformer room. Fire suppression activated.”
“Accident?”
“No.”
Another voice shouted in the background.
Lena continued.
“We have a breach on forty-seven.”
Silas looked at Wren.
Someone had used the explosion as distraction.
His private floor was exposed.
And Emma was upstairs retrieving books from Wren’s guest room.
Wren understood at the same moment.
“Emma.”
She ran.
Silas caught her.
“No.”
“My sister is up there!”
“I know.”
“Let me go!”
“Listen to me.”
His voice changed.
Wren froze.
“Lena has teams moving. You go through the main stairs, you become another person they have to protect.”
“She’s nineteen!”
“I know.”
Wren’s eyes filled.
Silas took her face between his hands.
“I will get her.”
“How?”
“Because there are three ways onto my floor they don’t know about.”
“How do you—”
Silas was already moving.
Wren grabbed his sleeve.
“Silas.”
He turned.
She kissed him.
One second.
Maybe two.
Fear, adrenaline, and everything they had refused to say.
She pulled away first.
Silas stared.
“That did not happen.”
Wren’s voice shook.
“Then go get my sister.”
He disappeared through the emergency access door.
The rooftop door locked behind him.
Wren remained alone beneath the flashing red lights.
For the first time in years, she had trusted a powerful man with someone she loved.
May you like
And she had no idea whether that would save Emma.
Or destroy them both.
