Page 114 of The Rules
"What?" she managed, the single word barely audible.
"You need a job. I need someone smart, someone I trust," Tammy continued, her voice calm and unwavering. "It's a win-win."
And it was. Katherine's mind raced through the possibilities. Working for Tammy meant no office politics. No Ben.
No secrets. No constant fear of being discovered. Just honest work with someone who already knew everything about her.
But she couldn't move. Her body felt frozen, caught between relief and something else—something that felt dangerously like disappointment.
"But if you do..." Tammy's voice grew quieter, more serious. "You have to let the Crawford thing go."
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a boundary. A line in the sand that Tammy was drawing between them.
"What?" Her breath caught again, the question hanging in the silence.
"No more digging. No more risks," Tammy said—firmer now. "This case already got inside you, Kath. Don’t let it take you down with it. I’m worried."
Kath’s stomach flipped. The warning was gentle, spoken with care—but it still landed like a slap. The idea of walking away from her father’s case, from the truth she’d chased for so long, felt unbearable.
But the truth? She was tired. So fucking tired of fighting.
Of losing. Of watching everything she built fall apart.
“I just… I need time,” she said softly, her voice fraying at the edges.
“Take it. I mean it,” Tammy replied, her tone easing, but still sharp with concern. “Just—take care of yourself, okay?”
This was the part where she should’ve breathed easier. Should’ve believed in redemption.
But all she felt was the ache of knowing she didn’t deserve it.
“My offer stands,” Tammy added, quieter now. “Anytime. Any day.”
Kath didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because there was a war inside her—two forces pulling in opposite directions, both too loud to ignore.
I want peace, she thought, eyes closing. I want justice.
I don’t think I get both.
Chapter 29
Benjamin
The air in the firm was thick—like everyone was holding their breath and pretending not to. Katherine Winters was gone. And the scent of blood was still fresh. Whispers snaked through the halls, coiling around Benjamin Sinclair's office like smoke with teeth. And inside, the man at the center of it all? He was a fucking landmine.
Ben sat at his desk, the weight of the firm pressing down from all sides. Morning light slanted through the blinds, casting prison-bar shadows across the wood. He could feel the stares, the hushed conversations that died the moment he walked past. They were all watching, waiting for him to crack.
He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
A soft knock broke the silence. Patty stood in the doorway, her usual spark dulled, eyes cautious but caring. She hesitated—just a beat—before stepping in.
"Ben..." It wasn’t often she used his first name. Not anymore. Not since they were kids and the world was simpler. Even as cousins, they’d outgrown those familiarities—especially here, where titles and tension ran thicker than blood.
Her voice was gentler than usual, tentative in a way it had never been. "People are talking."
He didn’t respond.
"They're saying she just disappeared. That she didn’t even clear out her desk. That she left because of you."
