By the time Silas returned to Southwood Estate, the clock was creeping past midnight. The world was utterly silent, the estate standing like a solitary fortress enveloped in a thick, heavy fog.
He parked the car in the driveway and glanced up at the second floor.
The lights were still on. She hadn't gone to sleep.
The brutally honest words he had just spoken to Grace echoed in his mind—
[I used to think we could be something more, which is why I let things go so far. Now, she's the only one by my side, which makes her the one I protect. I thought you understood that about me.]
His loyalty was entirely exclusive, and his instinct to fiercely guard what was his ran deep in his veins.
Ignoring the utterly shattered look on Grace's face, he had simply told her to get out.
"She's waiting for me at home, Miss Gifford."
The second she stepped out, he had hit the gas.
He cut the engine and headed inside.
Martha was still up, pacing nervously at the foot of the stairs with her arms crossed, looking entirely panicked.
"Martha, go get some rest."
"Mr. Sterling..."
She looked up at him, her face twisting in pure agony. "Maybe it would be best if you slept somewhere else tonight?"
Silas frowned. "What?"
"Miss Fairchild said... you shouldn't bother coming back."
Martha braced herself and relayed the message. "She also said you are entirely forbidden from going upstairs, you are not allowed in her room, and you should just go live with Miss Gifford."
Her voice grew quieter with every word.
It wasn't hard to imagine exactly how demanding the woman had sounded.
Silas's eyelid twitched. His voice dropped to a terrifying chill. "Martha, I never imagined you could be bought off so quickly. Did she put you on a second payroll?"
"No! Absolutely not!"
She waved her hands frantically. "Mr. Sterling, I..."
"Enough!"
One terrifying glare from Silas was all it took to instantly silence her. "Go to bed. And make sure breakfast tomorrow is something light."
With that, he headed straight upstairs.
He pushed open the bedroom door.

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