An Heir for Silas

AN HEIR FOR SILAS THE DARK LIFE OF SILAS BOOK TWO TORI SULLIVAN Copyright © 2023 by Tori Sullivan All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. To my assistant Jackie and my best friend/beta reader Ashley: Without you two, An Heir for Silas would’ve never made it to completion. Thank you for encouraging me along the way and reminding me that there’s someone out there who still wants my words even when it didn’t seem like it. To the readers who gave Silas a chance and love him: thank you from the bottom of my heart. Seriously. CONTENTS AUTHOR’S NOTE PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR EPILOGUE About the Author Also by Tori Sullivan AUTHOR’S NOTE Dear reader, You already know the drill with my books, but I think I might surprise you with this one. Despite the very dark tones of this book, the characters get a “happy for now,” but please don’t expect a traditional romance. REAL psychopaths/sociopaths are not redeemable people, as they do not have the proper emotions equipped to feel remorse/guilt to want to change. Love looks different for them than it does for people who aren’t like them, so keep that in mind as you make your way through this book. Now that we have that out of the way, this book is filled with very serious triggers. Please view the list on my website before diving into this book, as it is brutal, graphic, and full of triggers that are not everyone’s cup of tea. Please read responsibility and proceed with caution. -Tori PROLOGUE SILAS I checked my reflection in the mirror before blowing out a tense breath and turning to Donovan. “How do I look?” I asked. He folded his arms across his broad chest as he observed me with a slight frown planted on his lips, his gaze sweeping over me. My frown deepened as I watched his lips tip up into a slight smirk. “Like a billion bucks as usual,” he said, just as the door to the dressing room opened. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Arnett,” a production assistant said before disappearing again. “You ready to do this?” Donovan asked. I turned to look at my reflection again, adjusting my tie for the millionth time. It’d been six months since I’d murdered Lia and Maryse, and three months since my wedding should’ve happened. The city buzzed with rumors and speculation on what happened to “the wedding of the century” and why it didn’t happen. It was something I’d expected, but it didn’t mean I was ready to deal with this shit. It took forever to come up with a plausible explanation, as I couldn’t tell the world that the wedding didn’t happen because I’d killed my soon-to-be bride for being a fucking idiot. Now I had to quell the rumors and appease the public so I could move forward with my plan. “I don’t have a choice,” I said on a sigh. “The sooner I get these fucks out of my business, the sooner I can move on to plan B.” Things would be different this time around. I’d wanted Lia to last a lot longer than she had for multiple reasons, but I’d made many mistakes. I’d spent the last few months reflecting on how things could’ve been different, no matter how uncomfortable it would’ve made me. It was unfortunate that she didn’t survive long enough to make it down the aisle. I’d admit that I missed her, but not in the way people missed those they’d lost. I missed the pleasure I got from hurting her, the way her body reacted to my brutality. Maybe I’d been a bit haste in killing her when I simply could’ve kept her around to torture her. It would’ve been easy to cancel the wedding, tell the public we didn’t work out, and keep her locked in my basement to hurt her until her body couldn’t take anymore pain. Now I had to go through this annoying fucking process of finding someone else who could remotely replicate the feelings that devious bitch hooked me on. I pulled my eyes from my reflection and turned around, rolling my shoulders. “May as well get this shit over with.” “You’re confident with your story?” I shrugged. I’d been rehearsing that shit for the last two months. If I weren’t confident about it by now, then this interview would be a disaster before I even spoke a word. “Confident enough.” He opened the door and the production assistant looked up from his clip board, motioning me to follow him. I weaved through moving staff and stepped around equipment and cords. The stage came into view, Janice Tyler already sitting in her seat. I ground my teeth at the sight of her. She was known for badgering people in her interviews or editing them in ways that took shit out of context or made her guest into a villain or victim based on how she wanted her ratings to be. I knew if I played my cards right, I could use that to my advantage. If people saw me as the heartbroken fiancé instead of the murderer I actually was, they’d be more likely to turn a blind eye if they happened to see me falling back into normal patterns of sleeping with women. And I already had one woman in particular already in my sights. “Mr. Arnett, hi,” Janice said when I sat down. She closed her small compact mirror and put it on the