Page 50 of Her Billionaire Bossholes

Jackson spent his time caressing my arms, legs, hands, fingers. He'd pulled me against him the moment we were inside, cuddling me sweetly.

And now I can't get my mind off of it.

"Focus," I order myself.

I can't let my life become consumed by him, or Leo, or Caleb. I have a job to do--and it needs to be done now.

Setting my shoulders back, I refocus on the task at hand: tracking down the mole.

As I sit in the dimly lit room, surrounded by a flurry of papers and scattered photographs, my mind races with determination. A single beam of sunlight cuts through the dusty air, casting a soft glow on the worn surface of the desk. This is where I've been since we got back from the meeting.

I take a deep breath, attempting to clear my mind of the sensual memories that still linger from my encounter with Jackson. His touch, his embrace, it was as if time stood still in that broom closet. Not to mention the earlier encounter with Leo, wet and slick on the pool tile. But now is not the time for getting lost in passionate distractions. I need to gather any information that could lead me to the truth.

As I diligently connect the dots, I stumble onto a vital piece of information, one that unveils a direct link between the emerging threat and someone in close proximity to the men I Have come to care so deeply about—the very person who introduced me to them.

"Debbie?" I gasp in disbelief.

Her ID number stares back at me like a glowing beacon of doom.

A feeling of unease settles over me as I consider the possibility. It's not just the shock of discovering that someone I trust, someone we all trust, could be involved in such a horrible thing, but also the realization that my own vulnerability has played a role in this tangled web. My mind races with questions—how did Debbie get involved? Was it blackmail? Is she being threatened?

"Stop making assumptions," I whisper with a shaky voice.

I take a moment to compose myself, my hand trembling slightly as I reach for the photo of the organization's annual holiday party. Debbie stands at the center, her smile radiant and genuine, surrounded by Leo, Caleb, Jackson, and the rest of their team. How could someone so seemingly loyal harbor such sinister intentions? But I can't afford to dwell on my shock and disappointment; there's too much at stake.

The gravity of this discovery hits me like a ton of bricks, and my heart pounds in my chest as I realize the potential implications for the safety and well-being of Leo, Caleb, Jackson, and the entire organization. Debbie's involvement could mean that our enemies have infiltrated our inner circle--actually, it means they already have.

I need to be sure. I need concrete evidence before I can confront Debbie. I can't rely on assumptions or gut feelings. This is too important. Lives are at stake.

With renewed determination, I delve deeper into the labyrinth of information spread out before me. Every piece of paper, every photograph represents a thread that could lead me to the truth. I methodically examine each one, sorting through the chaos with a keen eye.

I dive into the online leak that had brought doubts to the forefront. The limited information I have accessed with Debbie's ID matches precisely with the leaked data. My pulse quickens as I realize that there is no denying it—Debbie is indeed the mole. A chill runs down my spine.

"How am I going to tell them?" I mumble in disbelief.

I sit back in my chair, trying to steady my racing thoughts. The weight of the situation settles on my shoulders, pressing down with an unbearable force. If Debbie, the company secretary, is playing a part in all of this, who else is? My mind begins to spiral, and I can feel myself sinking deeper into the dark abyss of uncertainty.

The room feels suffocating now, as if it has shrunk in size, closing in on me from all sides. I cast a wary glance at the cracked mirror hanging on the wall, questioning the reflection staring back at me. It's hard to trust anything or anyone when betrayal lurks so close to home.

I reach for a glass of water on the cluttered desk and take a sip, but it does nothing to quench the dryness in my throat. I need to gather my thoughts, to devise a plan that will protect Leo, Caleb, Jackson, and everyone else involved. But where do I even begin?

With a sigh, I get to my feet and change into something more flexible. Working out always clears my mind.

"I just need to get a clear head," I decide. "And once I know what to do, I'll tell the others calmly and professionally."

Yeah right!

42

CHARLIE

"Looking good in there," I say from the doorway to the gym, having been watching Charlie attack the punching bag with more energy than I'd ever seen.

Turning, she stops to take me in. I watch, smirking, understanding that she's checking me out from head to toe.

"Hi," she finally greets.

"Hey, beautiful," I respond, pushing away from the doorframe and striding over to her. "Up for another sparring session?"

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