Page 32 of The Masks We Break

Amora takes in a deep breath through her nose, resignation creasing her eyes. She’s always been good at letting things come out organically—knowing when to pry and when to let them remain unsaid. “Alright. Let’s get you home.”

No. No. I am not letting my night end like this.

“I want to do that thing.” My tone comes out pinched, desperation dripping in every syllable. I let my eyes finally snap to her, though, because really, Ineedto do this.

One of her faint arched brows lifts. “Girl. Are you sure?”

My swallow is thick, but I force the spit down with the nerves rolling in my belly. “Positive.”

I am a badass. And it’s time I prove it to myself.

SIXTEEN

Imake it a point to always do two things in life—never lie and never forget. Doing either means forgoing my upper hand in any given situation while risking the possibility of losing control to someone else. And currently, both faults are playing tug of war with my brain, leaving an ache pounding in my ears.

My father has tasked me with my first contract for Clean Source, and in doing so, has given me more access to how things are done. How they’rereallydone.

Adjusting my watch, I push some lingering homework to the side and search through the paperwork again until I find the file I’m looking for.

Cassidy.

The name is vaguely familiar and not being able to place it is driving me insane.

“Son, I’m not sure why you think keeping me waiting will do any good, but I’ll need that answer now.”

I clear my throat, running my tongue over my teeth. “I’ll take care of it, Father.”

“See to it that it’s done within the next six weeks,pup. It’s an easy contract. Don’t mess this up.”

My jaw clenches tight at the name, a searing pain shooting through my molars from the pressure. “Yes, sir.”

The phone lights up against my cheek as my father disconnects the call. Fury blooms at the base of my spine. The uncomfortable heat travels up through my vertebrae before wrapping around my head, threatening to leave me with a migraine. I know better than to let him get under my skin, but somehow the old man still manages to shimmy inside.

Get control, Bardot.

One.I draw in a deep breath, letting it sit in my mouth as I think about what needs to be accomplished this week.

Two.Another lit paper.

Three. A test in both marketing and economics

Four.After another count, my pulse begins to settle, returning to a steady pace.

Five.And a game on Saturday.

Six. Irritation has migrated from my brain but lingers in my muscles.

I stand, rotating my shoulders, and walk to the kitchen to grab a glass for some water. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll be able to look at the contract anymore. Not tonight. It will only frustrate me and make me do something stupid.

I’ve recently discovered my father is nothing more than a hypocrite for someone who demands honesty. Meanwhile, he’s the biggest conman in Washington.

The majority of his contracts are with growing businesses interested in making the change to green. They want the ability to slap a label on their storefront, so the world knows they are doing their part to make the planet a better place. That’s where Steel Bardot steps in. He gives them what they desire while inserting hidden fees that make him millions. He succeeds in portraying himself as this shark, but really, he’s nothing more than a fucking leech.

It often crosses my mind if he worries about my true intentions with taking over one day. If he thinks I’ll someday stop being the honest son thatheforged and continue his shady practices. Either way, I know this contract will serve as my test—both in my loyalty to him and potential as his successor.

Checking the time and seeing it’s well past three, I place the cup back in the cabinet. The sudden need to drink is gone, and instead, inky black hair creeps across my mind. I can’t help but wonder how she’s doing on her bir—

As if summoned with my thoughts, a heavy knock shakes my front door.

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