Page 84 of The Silver Fox Brother

You're making a mistake.

The most recent one, sent fifteen minutes ago, reads:

At least tell me you're safe.

I turn the phone around and show Kate and Amy the screen.

"He won't stop."

Kate's expression hardens. "Block those numbers too."

"He has office lines. An answering service. He'll find other ways to reach me if he wants to."

Amy's voice is sharp. "Then ignore him. He doesn't deserve a response."

"Part of me wants to respond," I admit.

"I want to tell him exactly what I think of him and his excuses and his pathetic attempts to manipulate me into coming back."

Kate shakes her head.

"Don't give him the satisfaction. Silence is more powerful than anything you could say to him right now."

I know she's right. I know that engaging with him, even to tell him off, would only give him an opening to keep the conversation going. To keep trying to explain himself or justify what he did or convince me that I'm overreacting.

But it's hard to resist the urge to fire back.

Kate leans forward, her voice softer now.

"Winter, you are the most tenacious, ambitious, badass woman I know. You've built an incredible business from nothing. You've worked your ass off for every single client and every single success. But when it comes to romance, especially with Rowan, you've had blind spots. And that's not your fault. It's human. But don't let those blind spots extend to how you handle this now."

Her words hit hard because I know they're true.

I've been making excuses for Rowan for longer than I want to admit. Ignoring red flags because I wanted to believe we were building something real. Letting my blind spots convince me that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

But I'm done with that now. I turn my phone face-down on the table and push it away from me.

"You're right. I'm not responding."

The phone buzzes again almost immediately, but I don't look at it.

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, the three of us drinking our coffee while the morning stretches on around us.

At ten o'clock, my phone rings. Not a text this time. An actual call. I glance at the screen and see Maya's name. My assistant.

I take a deep breath and answer, putting the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Maya."

"Hey, Win." Her voice is bright and cheerful, the way it always is in the mornings.

"Just checking in on today's schedule. The Chen meeting is still set for two this afternoon, and the fabric samples arrived yesterday like you wanted. I put them on your desk so you can review them before the meeting. Also, there's a new inquiry that came in this morning from a potential client in the Upper West Side. They're looking for a full renovation on a pre-war apartment, and they specifically asked for you. I can send you the details if you want to take a look."

I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temple. Maya sounds so normal, so business-as-usual, and I realize she has no idea what happened last night. No idea that my entire life just imploded.

"Maya," I say, and my voice cracks slightly.

"I need to reschedule the Chen meeting."