Chapter 48 The Confession
Silas’s hand brushed against hers as they stepped into the quiet night. The air buzzed with words unsaid, and the leaves stirred like whispers of the past. Genevieve, cloaked in her deep green coat, her honey-gold curls pinned loosely at her nape, walked beside him with an uncertain gait. The moonlight kissed her cheekbones, highlighting the unease etched in her expression. Her heels clicked against the pavement, every step feeling like a countdown.
Neither spoke as they neared her black Audi. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, it was loaded, thick, heavy with emotion. Silas’s tailored coat swayed as he moved, his broad frame shadowed by the streetlamp above. His normally unreadable face wore the faintest hint of turmoil. For a man known for control, for restraint, he looked disturbingly close to the edge.
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