Page 29 of Theirs to Hunt
"I'm becoming the string board meme."
Chapter twenty-four
Reagan, Wednesday 07:55 a.m.
Framed on the wall behind my desk are two black-and-white photos most people would miss at first glance.
It's not for decoration.
It's a reminder.
I'm no one's easy kill.
I can feel myself changing, rising to their bait.
I am evolving and it is delicious.
I smirk victoriously.
The 24 hour print shop really came through for me last night.
Chapter twenty-five
Grayson, Wednesday 09:05 a.m.
Istep into her office without knocking.
Her assistant startles but says nothing.
Smart.
The room is smaller than it looks on a security feed, efficient, tidy, lit with soft daylight from the single wide window behind her desk.
There's a faint scent of ylang ylang, bergamot and something faintly citrus, maybe lemon.
Not a fragrance meant to draw attention, but the kind that you remember.
Of course, my sweet girl isn't going to be obvious.
Her scent is just her, subtle, sexy, and unique.
Reagan isn't here.
Letting my gaze scan the room.
Sparse decoration.
A stack of neatly organized performance reports.
A coffee mug that says "In my Lady Boss Era" in cracked gold foil.
Typical.
Then I see them.
They weren't on the security feed yesterday.
Two framed photographs were side by side on the shelf behind her desk, a little above eye level.
