Hayes Hughes's pupils constricted, and his words died in his throat.
He thought Silas Grant was joking. After all, Silas had viciously attacked him—his own brother—for Mia Grant's sake not long ago.
In all his memories, Silas had never shown such a vicious, violent side.
Especially not to family.
Even to outsiders, he always maintained the elegant demeanor of a nobleman.
But now, as Hayes Hughes studied Silas Grant's expression, he had a feeling the man wasn't joking.
"Silas…" He found it so absurd he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "If I recall correctly, it hasn't been that long since the last time you attacked me."
"I suppose not."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Why?" Hayes Hughes didn't understand. "You love her."
"I do."
Silas Grant crossed his long legs, looking at him with calm composure. "And?"
Hayes Hughes froze. A moment later, he heard the man's deep voice.
