Three Years Forgotten, Why Go Crazy When I Say Goodbye? novel Chapter 130

Silas was a man of immense restraint. His self-control and ability to mask his emotions were his greatest assets in the boardroom, and he was well aware of it. Yet, the moment his eyes landed on the violent bruising on Willow's jaw, that legendary control fractured. In an instant, every ounce of his pride in his stoicism vanished.

Given the location and the bruising force, Silas couldn't imagine anyone but her husband leaving such a mark. As a man, he knew exactly what kind of aggressive intimacy would leave a bruise like that.

It seemed she and her husband were deeply passionate.

He forced his gaze forward, refusing to look again. Terrified that his dark, surging jealousy would bleed into his voice and scare her, he ruthlessly crushed the emotion down.

Noticing the car hadn't moved, Willow blinked in confusion. "Is everything okay?"

Silas raised a hand, tapping his own jaw to gesture to her. "You have some marks right here."

Willow immediately realized what he meant. It was from that psycho Julian grabbing her face earlier. No wonder it had been throbbing the entire walk.

She flipped down the sun visor and opened the vanity mirror. Two stark, angry red marks stood out aggressively against her luminous skin. In her head, she cursed Julian's existence for the thousandth time.

But to Silas, her reaction painted an entirely different picture. Watching her study the bruises in the mirror, he assumed she was admiring them, quietly cherishing the rough touch of the man she loved.

Suddenly, she winced. Even knowing another man had put his hands on her, knowing her heart belonged to someone else, Silas couldn't stop himself from asking, "Does it hurt?"

Willow shook her head. The pain was irrelevant; it was the absolute disgust that bothered her.

Silas didn't accept her silence. He reached over and opened the center console. He always traveled with a basic first-aid kit, and he quickly fished out a small tin of soothing healing balm.

"In that case, I have a favor to ask of you."

"You're too polite, Mr. Thorne. Just tell me what you need. If it's in my power, I'll definitely get it done." Willow's tone was thoroughly earnest. He had saved her from freezing to death today, and even if he hadn't, he was her boss. Whatever he needed, she would make it happen.

Countless people would kill for an excuse to get close to a man like him, and here he was handing her an opportunity on a silver platter. Willow had enough corporate survival skills to recognize a networking advantage when she saw one.

"I know you can do it. My only concern is whether your family might object to the arrangement."

Her only real family was her mother, and Martha would never interfere with her career. Willow didn't hesitate. "They won't have any objections. Tell me what you need."