Page 31 of Sweet Sinners
But I don’t let myself linger on it. Not now.
Instead, I turn and walk away before I do something reckless, like admit how much I liked it.
At six sharp, I’m already at the office, the halls eerily quiet, shadows lingering in corners still untouched by sunrise. The security guards at the front desk watch me pass with mild surprise, their nods careful but curious. I ignore the knot of nerves twisting low in my stomach, pushing forward, my heels clicking with a certainty I’m forcing myselfto feel. I dive straight into work, pulling together notes, tactics, and contingency plans for the storm ahead.
Before the full board gathers, I draw Sinclair, Dean, and Jackson into a smaller conference room. I chose them intentionally, strong personalities, different perspectives. If I’m going to fight this battle, I need allies who’ll challenge me, test my reasoning, and sharpen my approach.
"We're tackling this from three angles," I say, voice firm and unwavering. "First, we hold the accountant, wellaccountable, press charges publicly, swiftly, without hesitation. It’s the obvious move. Second, we clearly outline our corrective actions and future safeguards to the press, taking full control of the narrative. Finally, we restructure our bonus policy with research-backed incentives to ensure fairness and eliminate loopholes."
I pause, meeting each of their eyes, allowing my words to settle.
"But that’s just damage control. The real question is, how do we make sure this never happens again?"
For once, the air feels charged with respect, not resistance. They’re listening, truly listening.
Sinclair nods slowly, gaze steady and sharp. "Increase internal audits. Tighten financial oversight. More frequent check-ins, and not just on paper, physically verify."
Dean leans forward, his eyes serious. "On the PR front, transparency but carefully controlled. We frame this as a single rogue individual, not a systemic breakdown. We highlight our swift response and emphasize our commitment to change."
My attention shifts to Jackson, bracing for his usual pushback. But he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he leans back, genuinely thoughtful.
"You need to speak to the employees directly," he says finally. His voice isn’t harsh, it’s measured, careful. "Right now, they're on edge. Nervous. If they start doubting leadership, loyalty frays. Make them believe you’re on their side, and they won’t look for weaknesses in the system."
The insight is unexpected but solid. I hold his gaze, letting him see my genuine approval.
"Good point," I acknowledge, giving him a nod. "Jackson, I want you to ensure this message reaches every manager personally. They need to understand the importance of unity here."
He leaves the room looking different, less guarded, less resistant. Maybe even a little proud. I realize that maybe this fight isn’t entirely mine alone anymore.
Dean's gaze slides to mine, a slow, amused smirk forming. "Damn, Stavros. Didn't think you had it in you,winning over the wolves already?"
I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance, but I can't quite suppress the slight lift at the corner of my mouth. "Just go brief legal before I decide to feed you to them instead."
Dean chuckles under his breath, tossing me a mock salute as he heads out.
Sinclair, though, lingers at the doorway. He doesn't smile, not fully. He just watches me with those cool, assessing eyes. After a moment, he lets out a low, thoughtful sound.
"You realize this is only round one, right?" he finally says, his voice quiet and calculated.
My chest tightens, but I hold his gaze steadily. "I know. But today, for the first time, it felt like I wasn't walking through the fire alone." I pause, studying him. "Unless you think I'm reading the room wrong."
He shakes his head slowly, almost like he's considering something he hasn't decided to share. "You're sharp, I'll give you that. But plans are just words until you make them reality."
"I intend to," I reply, refusing to flinch.
He glances briefly toward the hallway, but I can't see what orwhohe is looking at from my chair, then he meets my gaze again, his voice dropping slightly. "Be careful whose counsel you listen to, Cali. The voices you trust now are the ones that'll guide you or mislead you later. Don't let them drown out your instincts."
My brows knit together. "What does that—"
But he's already moving, cutting off any chance at clarification. "Have a good day, Miss Stavros."
The way he uses my last name feels intentional, a challenge wrapped in respect. I watch him disappear, irritation and curiosity tangling beneath my skin.
Anna steps in immediately, practically buzzing as she reaches me. "Holy shit," she whispers excitedly. "You’re seriously killing it, Cali. I’ve never seen someone command the room like that."
I exhale slowly, letting her words sink in. For the first time in a long time, the belief she has in me feels real.
And damn if it isn'texactlywhat I needed.
