SILAS’S POV

It had been two days after I had arrived from Italy, and I was still as tired as hell.

After the phone call with Imogen’s supposed husband-- I blocked his contact.

Not out of fear of his threats-- hilarious. I may sound like an asshole, but after hearing his voice over the phone, I was pretty sure he was a wimp. I doubted he could take me on-- and if he could, there was no doubt I would whoop his ass.

I sat in the boardroom, at the head of a long ass table, ...