Emperor of Destruction [EDITING]

xvi.

XVI

Smut is included in this chapter.

After standing in the middle of the room for what it seemed like ten years, I finally spoke up, "He's not m-" my voice died down when Silas approaches me. I went to step back but it was already too late. His hand shoots out, grabbing my waist, and pulled my body into his. My protests and struggles stop when a harsh pain exerted in my body.

He pinched my stomach.

I look up at him only to find him looking Stephan and Evelyn with a goody two shoes smile. "Autumn still isn't used to our relationship." His lie flows easily from him.

My mouth gapes open. Liar. "Don't be ridiculous, Autumn. If anything I'm ecstatic you're dating this wonderful boy." There was something about her voice—backhanded. "He's an exceptional young gentlemen." Her eyes took in my boyfriend's appearance, checking Silas out.

Translation: having a Westbrook in our family can bring up Stephan's social standing. And essentially ours.

Stephan slaps a hand on Silas's shoulder. "How is your father doing?" It took only four words for his body to visibly tense up. If I blinked, I would've missed it.

Interesting.

"He's doing well," Silas sounded almost too calm. Whatever he has hidden up his sleeves, it wasn't good.

"Are you staying for Dinner?"

He smiles. He fucking smiles. I inched away from his touch slowly, only to be brought back by the grip he has on my waist. I huffed. Silas turns to me, his face still rocking that annoying smile. "That was the plan." He said, looking into my eyes almost lovingly like a dotting boyfriend would. He's committed to this role, that's for sure.

"She talks about us? All good things I hope." Stephan chuckled, though his stare said something entirely different.

Evelyn refrained from saying anything. She stood with an arm on her husband's bicep, watching the scene unfold in front of her. The expression on her face told me she's not buying our supposedly love story.

"Only good things." Silas clarified and I wanted nothing more than to bash his skull in for coming unannounced and lying.

First, he found my phone number. Then, my Instagram. And now he knows where I live, or where I used to live.

I excused myself to the washroom, the faint sounds of talking disappearing. As if my luck couldn't get worse, here came disaster himself. The universe must hate me. Maybe I killed an entire family in my past life, maybe that's why I'm being rewarded with nothing but calamity and chaos knocking on my front door.

Two steps are all I take before I'm wrenched back by a merciless grip on my hair. I shriek, my hands immediately shot for my hair, attempting to shoo the person off of me.