Page 25 of Game Misconduct

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This was supposed to be a solution. Not a complication.

And still, I can’t look away.

The buzz of my phone breaks the staring contest I’m having with my monitor.

Griffin.

I smile faintly. Of course.

How the hell my cousin knows I’m unraveling, I’ll never know but he always seems to know.

I stare at his name on the phone screen, letting it ring until it goes dark.

If I answer right now, I’ll break.

And if I break, I’ll lose this round.

I don’t have the luxury of losing any round at this point.

Instead, I open a new blank PowerPoint. I fill in slide after slide with numbers, charts, graphs. Projections. Market impact. Growth potential.

It’s all my armor.

I type faster, harder to the point my fingertips become sore. But I’m trying to drown the thoughts pressing in from every side.

Maddox.

Dean.

My father.

The contract is signed, but nothing’s settled.

Maddox is a fuse waiting to be lit.

Dean’s circling like a shark.

And my father, who has the talent of controlling everything I do from the fancy ass casket I put him in.

“You wanted a legacy, Dad? I’m going to give you a fucking legacy despite your rules.”

I wish that declaration echoing off the silent walls made me feel better.

But it doesn’t.

My eyes burn. My chest aches.

I close the laptop before I throw it out the window.

I’m sure Dean and the board would have all kinds of things to say if someone found my laptop on the immaculate lawn outside.

Blowing out a breath, I give myself a mental pat on the back.

I’m still here. And so is my laptop.

I’m alone. Angry. Afraid.

But unbroken.

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