Page 47 of Corrupted Memories
“Did the Irish know I was there? Would they even care?” I interrupt, something nagging at me in the back of my mind.
Sebastian shifts under me, resignation settling on his face when I look up at him.
“Why do you think your brother hid you in Jersey, Gianna?” he asks, calmly.
I understand what he’s hinting at but I shake my head. “No, my brother wouldn’t do that to me.”
The idea of my brother working with the Irish mafia is ridiculous considering he condemned Sebastian’s family for who they are.
Nico snorts. “Do what exactly?”
“I know you’re implying he’s working with the Irish.”
“No, not the Irish,” Nico quips with a mocking tilt of his head. I hate how it makes me feel, like the butt of a joke that I’m on the verge of understanding.
Sebastian clicks his tongue. “Gianna, if you want to discuss your brother’s involvement, we will. But I’m not sure you’re ready for it.”
I cross my arms in annoyance, grinding my teeth. Doubt makes my breathing pick up. No, my brother isn’t tied up with the mafia. Hell, he’s working with the FBI. A whisper of uncertainty swirls in my mind that he could be working with both. I frown. Maybe he’s working with neither and I’m horrible for doubting him. God, I hate how paranoid Sebastian makes me. My brother hasn’t done anything for me not to trust him.
Glancing between the two men, they wait patiently before Sebastian sighs, nodding toward the door.
“If you’re unsure, then leave us to discuss some things. Don’t leave the floor, I’ll know if you attempt to,” he says.
I scowl, annoyed with the dismissal, but leave because I’m not sure if I want the information they are talking about anyway, regardless of the relation to my brother.
I slam the door shut as I walk out of the room and head to the office opposite his, determined to find some paper and a pen to sketch out a few ideas for some work projects that I know are coming up.
“If you attempt, I’ll know,” I mock under my breath. Like I’m some child who needs to be watched consistently or I’ll run away.
Turning on the light, I’m surprised to find it used like a storage closet. My eyebrows furrow as I take in the random boxes. Looking over my shoulder, I shut the door gently and move farther into the room. I pick one at random, tear the lid off, and then tense up. The pink butterflies printed on the white comforter assault me with memories, and my throat aches with emotion. Tears prick my eyes as I pull it out and smell it, my chin trembles at the hint of the vanilla perfume I used to douse myself in.
I crush it to my chest and bite down on my lip when I see the other items. When I ran from him that night in college, I had to leave everything behind. My cherished corkboard with years of photospinned to it had hurt a lot, and while the corkboard is gone, I know the photos scattered at the bottom of the box. My hand shakes as I pick up the first one, recognizing it from sophomore year when we attended the fair. Someone had captured our kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel, and it couldn’t have been a more perfect moment.
Shaking my head, I stuff the blanket back inside and close the box. I don’t have the heart to go through the photos right now. Sebastian had been my first everything, including my first long-term relationship, and it destroyed me to run away from him. It took years to build myself back up and let go of the future I’d dreamed of. I don’t like the reminder of how naive and hopelessly in love with him I was… and still am.
I move to the next box, finding more of my dorm room items. The third box I try gives me pause and I frown, pulling out the packets. It contains the entire background information on my parents and the trust fund they’d set up before they died. I could understand if the files were about me, but there are pages and pages of bank accounts and names I don’t recognize.
Frowning, I move to the next one, shifting through some of my old clothes before seeing more folders resting at the bottom. I pull them out, confused as I flip through the pages of what looks like thorough profiles on different men. It’s not until Ifinally recognize the name of one that I go back and realize it’s all my college professors and some of the department heads. My mouth falls open as I read through the information gathered, going as far back as disciplinary forms they received in their own school years.
I move on to the next box, finding more profiles of men I don’t know. But when I look them up on my phone, I nearly drop it when I realize it’s all of the board members from Sebastian’s company. When I get to a portion that details some unsavory behavior, I shut the folders and stuff them back into the boxes before re-covering them with my old college items.
My heart pounds in my ears, the trepidation of what I know causing my breathing to pick up. I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what Matt is looking for, and I don’t know what to do. There’s also the paranoia that this is a test from Sebastian. Why else would they just be lying around for anyone to go through? Does he want to see if I’ll turn these over to my brother? And if I do, is all the information false?
I groan, moving to stand near the window and stare out at the city again. Chicago feels more like home than New Jersey ever did. I don’t know if that’s because I’m here with him again or not. This has always been our city, where our relationship grew into what it was before I ran away from it all.
I rub my arms, so overwhelmed with indecision that I’m starting to get a headache. I don’t want to fail my brother, especially after all he’s done for me, but the thought of harming Sebastian also doesn’t sit well with me.
With a sigh, I push off the window and head back to his office, needing to determine what happened all those years ago once and for all.
Nico is gone by the time I open the door. Sebastian looks up from the computer to face me with a smile.
“Done exploring?”
It doesn’t seem like taunting, only curiosity, but it makes my heart race regardless.
I nod, moving closer to him. “Done working?”
He shakes his head, grabbing me by the elbow to sit me on the corner of his desk. “Not yet. Why? Do you want to go home?”
