Silas (A Playboy's Lair Novel Book 1)

by S. R. Watson

  Kassius comes in behind me, takes a washcloth from the towel rack, and wets it. I brace the porcelain, exhausted. I have no fight left in me to push him away as he pats my face with the cool towel.

  “I’m still not talking to you,” I manage to get out between heaves.

  “Well, you can listen then because I’m not leaving until you hear everything I have to say. After that, if you still choose to hate me, I will respect that.”

  It’s pointless to argue. I can see the conviction in his narrowed eyes. I will let him talk, and then I will kick him out. I have two days to determine what the hell I’m going to do with my life.

  Kneeling here and dry heaving over the toilet brings about Deja vu. Not too long ago, Silas was here while I was sick. Even with my head almost in the toilet, I can’t erase the memory of the despair I heard in his voice as he left. I’m trying not to care, but I’m failing miserably. I only half believe all those nasty things I threw at him. I just wanted to hurt him with my words … give him a taste of what I was feeling. I didn’t feel used when I was with him, but I’m not sure how much of what I felt was an illusion orchestrated by a master player.

  When it is obvious that I have nothing to come up, Kassius wipes my face and helps me to my feet. I pull away from him, and he pulls back. He wants to help me to my room. Fine. I sit on my bed, and he sits on the empty one opposite of me.

  “I’ll start from the beginning,” he announces when he is satisfied he has my attention.

  “After our brief meeting before the guests arrived, Silas asked me to stay behind for a special task. He told me that he had hired a new housekeeper because Atticus asked for a favor for a friend. All his employees were investigated and well vetted before being hired, but he didn’t have time to do that with you. The request from Atticus’s friend was sudden, and the cruise was leaving before he could get proper intel on you. He is very protective of his business. I won’t get into specifics, but there are people who would love to see him fail—to bring down his entities.”

  “I signed his NDA,” I point out.

  “That’s nowhere near enough. Anyone can sign a piece of paper. The trick is to ensure that the person signing is reliable and trustworthy enough to adhere to what is being signed.”

  “So what does all this have to do with you? Why did you lie to me?”

  “Someone from the aft leaked aspects of The Playboy’s Lair. They didn’t have access to our proprietary info, but it was enough for Silas to get wind of a copycat in the BDSM community. They tried to start their own cruise, similar to ours, but it tanked because their idea didn’t hold the connections and prestige of ours. We could not decipher who the guilty person was, and our best guess was that it wasn’t an individual effort. Four of us co-own The Playboy’s Lair. As partners, we mutually decided to let go of the entire group of employees. That is why Silas needed seven volunteers from his remaining staff to work the aft—why he needed to have an initial eye on you. Someone got to one of his original staff members, who then potentially poisoned more employees to be a part of their plan to steal his ideas. He needed to be sure about you.”

  “So innocent people lost their jobs in the process?” I told myself that I wouldn’t speak, that I’d let him explain himself so he could leave, but now he’s caught me off guard with what he’s shared. I feel horrible for those people who didn’t have a hand in betraying Silas, but it gives me insight into his reasons for having me investigated.

  “Casualities of war, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s so sad. One question. Why did you pretend to be my friend … and gay?”

  “I wasn’t pretending with the friend part, Brennan. I only gave you a fake name because I had to. I’ve hosted experiences on this cruise. The volunteer employees who were brought over to the aft on our floor knew who I was. We had to keep my identity exclusive to those two, Ben and Jacob. Do you know how hard it was to avoid any staff who would recognize me?”

  He comes over to sit on the bed next to me. “You were a breath of fresh air, Brennan. Although I had to create a persona, our interactions were real. You needed a girlfriend, not some macho guy trying to befriend you. I knew you would never let me in as myself so I gave you an alternate version you could relate to—a gay guy. The persona and his background I created was the only thing I faked. The way I feel about you is real. You’re the sweetest, most genuine person I’ve met in a long time. I knew the minute Silas begin to fall for you. When he found out about our friendship, he encouraged me to tell you, but we wanted to do it together. He needed to explain why I was originally put in your path. He wanted to talk to you about something very important first, and now I don’t know if it will ever happen.”

  “What did he want to tell me?” My curiosity is piqued.

  “That will have to come from him. Silas really is a good guy. He is very protective of his heart, careful not to let people in, but if you’re fortunate enough to be allowed in, he loves hard.”

  “I said some very mean things when he came by earlier,” I admit.

  Now that the anger is wearing off, I’m filled with regret. I don’t know if any of what those women said was true. All I have to go by is how special he made me feel.

  “Trust me, I know. I’ve never seen my cousin look so distraught. You had the ability to wreck him, and you did just that. He wouldn’t tell me what you said, but he told me that you’d be departing when we get to the Barbados port.” Kassius untangles my fingers and lifts my chin. “Hear him out, Bren. Don’t leave without giving him a chance to express himself. I’ll let you be. I don’t expect to mend things with you overnight, but I hope we can rebuild our friendship.”

  I don’t reply. I can’t give him an answer right now. Chance are, I will never see him again anyway. He leaves, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

  I need to return Silas’s camera to him. This is my rationale for now heading to his room. I simply can’t put it off. Just my luck, his level is open from the indoor pool area still. I climb the stairs quickly, blocking any logic that tells me not to do this. I’m mere steps from the fire pit when I see them sitting there. He’s with Jasper. She looks relaxed with a glass of red wine in her hand and legs crossed on the sofa. Silas is sitting next to her. He sits up straighter when he sees me, but it’s obvious I’ve interrupted whatever the hell they’re discussing. It’s definitely not arguing, like earlier. I stand there tongue-tied, embarrassed.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Brennan?”

  The absence of his terms of endearment for me doesn’t go unnoticed. Received and noted. His blue eyes are cold. I don’t know this Silas.

  “Just wanted to bring back your camera. Thank you for loaning it to me. I’ll let you two …”

  I don’t even attempt to finish that sentence. My heart crumbles at the word “two” as the possibility of them rekindling their past becomes more than a likely scenario. I place the camera bag at my feet, where I stand, and run away as fast as my legs will carry me. Only I can’t go back to my room. It’s the place where he first cuddled with me, the place I started to have feelings for him. Now he’s already back with her. I get the sickening feeling in my gut because it’s always been her. We were the substitutes, just like she said.

  I don’t even know why I bothered. I pushed him away without listening to his side, but from the looks of his coziness with her, he is just fine. Maybe we did have a spark, but now we’ll never know. I do believe things happen the way they’re meant to. Realizing I can’t avoid my room forever, I head there instead of walking around the yacht like a lost soul. I need to find a place to go, but I don’t have a computer, and I smashed my phone. That was a really smart move on my part.

  I shower, crawl into bed, and turn on some I Love Lucy reruns. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Fuck love. I have more important things to worry about like not ending up homeless. I will worry about my future tomorr
ow as I’m sure it will still be just as bleak. I fall asleep to the shenanigans of Lucy and Ethel.

  SILAS: A Playboy’s Lair Novel (Part Two)—Sneak Peek

  When did I get this fucking soft? My reputation precedes me. Arrogant. Cocky. Ruthless. My competitors wish to imitate me, men wish they could be me, and women wish for the chance to fuck me. My reflection stares back at me, illuminated by the flames from the fire pit. I don’t recognize this man. He is a shell of who I once was. The truth is, he’s been missing since Brennan showed up on my deck. Unbeknownst to me, a void existed in my life. One that she filled so easily. She chipped away at the armor I erected—the armor that transitioned me from a boy with feelings to a man with goals. These goals drove me to the success that I have been able to acquire. Neither love nor emotions were ever part of that equation. That mentality has allowed me to dominate the sex industry and to be the most sought-after billionaire bachelor to date.

  I let my guard down for the appeal of innocence and naïvety. Foolish to think those attributes weren’t a threat. In hindsight, Brennan was the most dangerous of them all. She slipped through my defenses, underestimated. She made me want something that has no place in my life. Love. I could honestly see myself building something with her. Then out of nowhere, Jasper appears back in my life. With her came all the dormant feelings that I thought were long gone. My present and my past collided, taunting me and exposing my one weakness.

  I have to find a way to turn it off. This fucking key around my neck is my armor. My truth. I must repel anything and anyone who threatens its purpose. My mind has been compromised—my flesh weak. My heart needs to be at its strongest. I watch as Jasper leans back on the loveseat, unbothered by Brennan’s intrusion moments ago. She sips on her glass of red wine with her legs crossed. I’ve tuned out what she’s said over the past couple of minutes. Instead, my mind drifts back to the conversation with Brennan some hours ago. Well, her accusation since she did all the talking. Disdain dripped from her words, her intent … malicious. She wanted to hurt me. She used verbal assault to do what she always did … run. So quick to judge, no benefit of the doubt given. She was too eager to believe the worst about me, thus successfully removing my blinders.

  I watched the hurt in her eyes when she found me sitting here with Jasper, no doubt assuming the worst and creating the fictional scenarios in her head that she is so good at. I ignored the sinking feeling in my stomach, the hero complex that wanted to reach out and comfort her. She was met with a façade, an acceptable version of myself. Gone is the emotional ridden Silas. I will maintain this veneer until it becomes my truth yet again. Cold. Calculating. Impenetrable.

  “You haven’t said much,” Jasper says after she notices my lack of response. I honestly have no clue what the hell she has even said.

  “Hmmm. What was that?”

  “We’re you even listening?” She uncrosses her legs and leans forward to see my face.

  I take a sip of my Macallan. “Not really.”

  “What was the point of asking me to your room then? I thought you wanted to clear the air,” she replies frustrated.

  “You assumed wrong. I haven’t decided how I want to proceed. I summoned you here to decipher your true motive for being here. Only you chose to use the time to take a walk down memory lane, all while ignoring the amount of deceit involved to sneak aboard.”

  “I already laid it all out earlier. I explained my reasoning for everything. There was no other choice for me. I had to do whatever it took to see you again,” she professes. “I was just trying to help you remember a happier time between us.”

  “None of it changes the facts. You plotted and executed a lie to get on board. That doesn’t foster trust. Instead, it reveals your capability; the lengths you will go to get what you want.”

  “But it was for you.”

  I finish the last of my scotch and stand. This visit is over. The warmness I regarded her with, gone. Her argument is invalid. While I might see her perspective, I’m finding it hard to justify her actions. I can’t help but think that ulterior motives may be at play here. I need to choose my next move wisely. The nostalgia of seeing her again has worn off, allowing me to think a bit clearer.

  “It’s getting late. I don’t have an answer for you tonight. Your story is being validated, so we’ll talk again tomorrow. This is good night.”

  I don’t know what she hopes will be the outcome of all this. I’ve had some time to think about my options. It seems I only have one clear choice. Step back from them both. I recognize my weakness, and I’m choosing to eradicate it. Nobody will possess power over me. Fuck emotions. I was better off before without them. And definitely no more fucking my employees. I’m going to keep my business and sex life separate.

  Jasper stands and tips back her glass to finish her wine. “I was going to wait to tell you this because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to influence your decision to let me stay. Only now, it doesn’t seem like anytime will be a good time. So before I go, I must confess something.”

  She kicks off her stilettos and brings them to her chest. She looks away from me and fixates on the fire. She starts at the beginning, revealing the most important piece of the puzzle that she kept from me earlier.

  My fucking world as I know it shatters into a million pieces. In mere seconds, she has managed to unravel any plans I may have hoped to make. She was holding the ace of spade, and she just played that motherfucker. Fuck me. I’m rendered speechless as she walks away hugging those stupid stilettos to her chest. If her plan all this time was to come aboard and wreck my life, she has succeeded. Now what the hell am I going to do?

  1 week later

  Today is my off day. It’s beautiful Saturday morning, yet I’m held up in my cabin. I watch the guests get off the yacht here in St. Kitts. I quit a week ago, but Kassius convinced me to stay. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to face. Going back to the Neumanns wasn’t an option. My only two choices were to stay or to leave and struggle to find somewhere to stay. I don’t have a credit history or rental history—nothing to make anyone want to rent to me. The choice was painfully obvious. Kassius had promised to help me once we arrive back in Florida, so I just have to hold on until then.

  Things between us aren’t exactly as they were before, but I’ve agreed that we could start over. No lies this time around. He talked to Silas for me to reinstate my job. Luckily, I didn’t have to tuck my tail between my legs and beg. My phone was replaced, and the little thing called the cloud saved the pics I had taken on the other one. For that I’m grateful. There are even a couple of pics that I snuck of him that I try not to look at. He’s not thinking about me, and I’d do well to do the same. I was transferred from the aft to the job I was originally hired for. I haven’t seen Silas since. His normally open retractable ceiling has been closed to the pool below.

  I’ve swum laps every night this week at midnight, telling myself that I’m just getting back to my routine. Failing miserably to convince myself that I’m not hoping to run into him. I know that Jasper is still on this boat, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess he’s probably back with her. There was no landing of the helicopter when we docked in Barbados, and I’m sure it isn’t coming now that we’ve docked again. Jasper is on this boat to stay. The sooner I accept that, the better off I’ll be.

  Yes, I said some hateful things. I ran. Then I chased him off with my hurtful words. This time he has given up the chase. He has the person he’s supposed to be with, so I’m of no consequence, but my heart still aches for him. He didn’t fight for me. For us. Did he ever want it to be an us? I hate that things ended the way they did, but I hate it even more that things are irreparable.

  I didn’t get off the boat in Barbados, so through the rotation, I’m able to get off now. What’s the point, though? I’m numb, and no amount of picture taking is going to rectify that. I just want to order room service, binge on reality TV, and hide away in my cabin.

  I flip through the
channels, restlessly. Work. Eat. Swim. Sleep. Repeat. This has become my life. Luckily, I’ve had little contact with Tory. Atticus has taken over as my immediate boss. He’s never mentioned any of the drama, and for that I’m grateful. I’m taking it a day at a time—trying to move on. Hopefully, things will get easier once I’m off this boat—away from the memory of him.

  I’m startled by a knock on my door. I’m not expecting anyone. Hell, I’m still wearing my pajamas. I begrudgingly get up to answer.

  “Um, you look like shit, buttercup,” Kassius announces as he walks past me.

  “Thanks. Nobody else has to see me, so whatever. Aren’t you getting off the boat with everyone else?”

  “Yes, and that’s why I’m here. I’ve come to collect you.”

  “Collect me?”

  “You’ve been a hermit long enough. You need some fresh air. You’re getting off this boat with me.” He walks over and plops himself on my unmade bed. He pulls the remote from under his ass, that he mistakenly sat on, and clicks off the television.

  “Thanks for the offer, but—”

  “Oh buttercup, I wasn’t offering. This is an intervention. I won’t take no for an answer,” he responds, cutting me off. I stare at him blankly. “Don’t just stand there. Go shower and wash your hair. We have a full day ahead of us.”

  He crosses his arms and put his feet up. I want to fight him on this, but maybe I do need some fresh air. “You’re insufferable; you know that?”

  “Yep. Now chop-chop. Do you need me to pick you out something to wear?”

  “No!” I say a little to forcefully. What is it about the Lair men and their need to go through my things? The last thing I need is his judgment at my options. He is always so put together. “I mean I got it. I won’t be long.”

  I quickly pull out a pair jean cutoffs that I cut at the knees with my nicest tank top. With my back blocking his view, I grab my undergarments from the drawer before heading off to get ready. I swear he is so bossy, just like his cousin.