Page 176 of Sexting the Boss

It’s like the ground shifts beneath me.

Ryan—who’s been checking in, who I cried in front of, who knows I’m pregnant—he’s working with her?

With Nina?

Ryan nods. “Just say when.”

“Soon,” Nina replies. “We need to let it play out.”

Let what play out?

My mouth goes dry.

They don’t see me. They don’t know I’m here. But I can’t move. My legs are stone. My fingers go cold even though I’m sweating.

I told Damien.

I told him weeks ago I didn’t trust Nina, that she was too smooth, too convenient. And now here she is. Whispering strategy with the one person I’ve let in.

The one person who’s been inside my apartment.

Who I told about the baby.

Who I gave a key to last week so he could “drop by and check in.”

My stomach lurches.

Ryan.

And Nina? She must be working with Damien’s enemies.

Oh my God.

I back away slowly from the door, every breath shallow and tight. My fingers are shaking as I clutch my phone.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t believe this.

How long has he known her?

How long has he been playing me?

I stumble down the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, not caring who sees. I need to get out. I need to get home. No. Not home. Not anymore.

I need to run.

The second I hit the sidewalk, I don’t stop.

Not until I’m a block away from the building, my back pressed to the side of a pharmacy and my breath coming out in short, uneven bursts. My fingers tremble as I open my phone.

I scroll past Damien’s name.

And text the number he gave me weeks ago.

Me: Roman. I need help.

Four words. That’s all I can manage.

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