Page 107 of Sinner

“I have work to do,” Elizabeth said, giving all four men in the room a damning look. Not that I blamed her. She’d found herself in a sea of sharks.

Christopher waited until after she’d left, raking his hand through his hair. “What about Friday?”

“What about it?” I shot back.

“Maybe we should cancel the event,” Wilder suggested. “The Obsidian Society can wait.”

“I agree.” Zach pulled away, studying me with his usual dark eyes.

“We don’t make that decision today. Period. We have far too much time and money invested in the event.” Was I still thinking with my dick at this point? I couldn’t be certain.

Wilder exhaled. “We do. We wait until in the morning to decide. Let’s see how the day is played out.”

Christopher acted disgusted and left the room without saying another word.

The tension remained in the room. Wilder glanced over his shoulder at the open door and walked closer. “Don’t do anything rash about Dorn.”

They knew me far too well. “I won’t unless he continues to push the point. If he does, I won’t be held responsible for what I do.”

Jessica

I’d soon learn to become an expert at being miserable.

I was getting there fast. At the moment, I was huddled under a blanket in the middle of June, the air conditioner turned down a couple of degrees so I could remain comfortable under the comfy throw while I polished off a carton of dark, decadent chocolate ice cream. I also had a glass of wine on my coffee table waiting for me as I binge watched whatever the hell the remote had landed on after turning to Netflix.

My concentration was shit, although I’d tried to process everything that had occurred in the last few hours.

I’d ceremoniously lost two jobs in the whirlwind of a few hours. Good for me. Evidently, half the world had seen the article given the number of phone calls I’d received and hadn’t taken. What troubled me was not one of them had been from Xander.

He was obviously ignoring the elephant in the room by deciding not to talk to me. Not that I’d found the courage to makecontact with him either. What was I supposed to say to the man? I’m sorry? While I had nothing to do with the article, the information provided was too damning.

One thing had stuck in my mind during my misery. However Dorn Franklin had gotten the information, much of which was correct, it appeared someone wanted to take down both companies. But who could it be? I’d tried to put a name to my thinking. There were several rival companies out there, including in other countries, but they were all considered reputable.

Maybe looks were truly deceiving.

I wasn’t going to be the one to solve the mystery. I didn’t have the connections at this point in my career. But Xander did. I’d debated calling him so many times, or just driving by his house. Not that I could find it that easily.

“Oh,” I groaned and jammed the spoon into the last of the ice cream. This was a nightmare. I only had myself to blame. I should have gone to the police about Dorn even after the fact. Now it was too late. They’d never buy my story, especially since the bruise across my eye had almost faded into nothing.

And the man had good friends. Ugh.

Sighing, I pummeled my fist on the couch and wanted to do nothing more than crawl under the covers and sleep until it was a new year. My phone rang again and I was ready to pitch it against the wall. I peeked out from under the blanket, opening a single eye as I sat up trying to see who was calling. Maybe a part of me was hopeful it was Xander.

I might not trust the man completely and my earlier feelings lingered in the darkest part of my brain, but I hadn’t reachedthe point of being able to sabotage his company. The article had been a low blow, a hopeful hit that would send the company spiraling.

Who was calling instead? My father. Shit. Shit. Shit.

So much of me wanted to lash out at the man, yet I was still his baby girl. He’d suffered tremendous losses over the years and the little girl inside needing her father had wanted to help ease his pain along with my own.

But I was an adult, living on my own for far too many years to seek or find comfort in my father’s arms.

Without thinking, I snatched my phone off the coffee table. “Hey, Dad.” My head was throbbing.

His deep sigh was telling. He’d read the article. “What is going on, Jess?”

“I’m not entirely certain what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

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