From His Ex-Wife to the World's Most Sought-After Restorer (Jade and Hudson) novel Chapter 196

"Mr. Faith, Ms. Jade Merchant looks so fragile. Do you really think she's up for this?" the assistant asked, doubt clear in his voice.

Silas leaned back against the plush velvet sofa. His usually pristine hair was damp from a shower, falling messily across his forehead in a look of casual, effortless grace.

He lifted a crystal glass from the coffee table and took a slow, deliberate sip of the amber liquid.

"Whether she's 'up for it' isn't my call," Silas said, his voice a low drawl. "It depends on how badly she wants that divorce. The more desperate she is to escape Hudson Walter, the more creative she'll get with finding evidence."

The assistant hesitated before asking another question.

"Is she really the only way? If she fails, the family back home will—"

He cut himself off as Silas's expression suddenly shifted. A cold, predatory darkness flickered in the man's eyes, making the air in the room turn brittle.

Clink.

Silas set the glass down with a sharp sound. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and when he opened them, the storm of emotion had vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly flat calm.

"I only agreed to work with Jade because Julian Foster came to me. Otherwise, do you think the main branch of the Faith family has enough pull to make me fly halfway across the world to clean up their mess?"

"So you and Mr. Foster are planning to take down the Walter Group—"

Silas's gaze turned into a lethal edge, stopping the assistant mid-sentence.

"You're talking too much today."

The assistant flinched, his head dropping instantly as he raised a hand and delivered a sharp, stinging slap to his own face.

"Forgive me, Mr. Faith. It won't happen again."

He hit himself hard enough to leave a red mark, but Silas didn't even blink. His voice was like a winter frost.

"Get out."

The assistant bowed low and retreated from the room without another word.

Silas was left alone in the silence.

He stood up, glass in hand, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. He swirled the whiskey, looking down at the endless stream of lights in the city below.

The image of Jade Merchant in that hospital room flashed through his mind.

She had been so thin, the hospital gown hanging loosely off her frame.

Her skin was almost translucent, her lips a ghostly pale—the very picture of a fragile flower caught in a storm.

She looked weak, yet her actions since then had been surprisingly swift and decisive.

"Interesting," he thought, a faint smirk touching his lips.

Grandview Estate.

Amara Hoyt's face was a mask of simmering fury from the moment she walked into her villa.

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