Page 71 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

And moles.

There are pieces in the story—sure. I have to find their source because nobody gets their hands on that much information about my people without having someone on the inside.

As much as Peter betrayed me, Leo fell off the surface of the earth; I know someone else is behind all of this.

“Who?” I ask as my eyes narrow to hard, unforgiving glints. My voice trembles slightly as I stalk him from across the room, and he takes a fearful step back, hitting my desk. “Who was the man?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, boss. And I swear,” he raises both hands, “he knew so much that I got scared. I wouldn’t have said anythingotherwise.”

How?

How?

God.

It feels like someone pulled the fucking wool over my eyes, sending me in the wrong direction while they played their hands. I was busy looking into the prosecution’s office and the bastard who sent the photographs, and I didn’t think I had to watch my side.

The sharp knock at the door nearly tips me over the edge, but I rein it in, swallowing down the fury as Perpetual steps in. She clutches a folder tightly to her chest, her wary gaze flickering between me and the wreck of a man standing by my desk.

“What?” My voice is a low growl.

She clears her throat, shifting on her feet. “The directors are waiting in the conference room. Mr. Cross is present as well.”

I flick my wrist in dismissal, and she wastes no time slipping out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Raking a hand through my hair, I exhale sharply before turning back to Paul. He flinches under my gaze, his entire body wound tight with fear.

“You’ve already done enough damage,” I say, my tone cold, final. “I suggest you disappear. Make sure our paths never cross again, because if they do—” I take a step closer, my presence towering over him, suffocating “—I’ll make damn sure it’s the last mistake you ever make.”

His throat bobs as he nods, trembling, his silence the only thing keeping him alive.

Good.

I brush past him without another glance, straightening my cuffs as I head for the conference room. The directors are waiting. I’m not stupid enough to know why they’re here.

They’ll want me to step down. My reputation is stained, and the company requires some sort of preservation to keep its facade.

I won’t let it happen, though. I’d rather burn it all to the ground than let someone else control my father’s legacy.

My legacy.

I might be walking into a battlefield, but that’s fine. I don’t intend to lose.

The first thing I see when I walk into the conference room is Anthony.

In my seat.

Blood curdles in my veins as our eyes meet, and he recognizes the unspoken fast enough for him to get up. “Ethan,” he says with a smile, “I guess the meeting can finally begin.”

I survey the room—the faces of people I know are about to either jump ship or betray me before heading to my seat. Their faces imprint in my memory, carving books I intend to scrub out by the time I’m done with everything.

“I’m assuming this is a real emergency,” I say as I sit straightened, flexing my fingers on the table. There’s no warmth in my tone or my eyes either and I watch some shiver under my unmerciful gaze.

Anthony is the first person to speak up. “We need to carry out damage control, Ethan. Everyone here is aware of what goes on outside these walls, at least to some extent, but when it becomes fodder for the public to feed on, then we can’t pretend to sweep it under the rug.”

A mirthless,deepchuckle echoes through the room from my lips as I face my cousin. “If we’re talking about reputations, Anthony, then you’re the last person to speak. Your extracurricular activities aren’t anything to write home about… I don’t have to remind you of that.”

“Hey,” he raises both hands in defense. “I wasn’t the one who called for the meeting. Heck,” he turns to three men seated next to each other—the financial head, operations chief, and public relations/affairs chief, “I told them it was best to let you handle it. After all, you’ve been at the helm for a good while now.”

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