Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
It took a lot of coercing for me to let her go. She’s insistent on dealing with the situation herself. I don’t fucking want her to. I meant it when I said I’d rather kidnap her and keep her for myself.
If it were up to me, she’d be chained to my bed, where I’d only let her go to chase her.
But the last time one of us decided to handle the whole situation on our own, we were separated for seven fucking years.
Seven years of loneliness.
Of rage.
Of fucking wasted time.
And that won’t be the case going forward.
Besides, Naomi needs this for closure. I might have lived on negative emotions all this time, but she suffered, too. Silently. Alone.
And she needs to rip the stitches from her wound on her own. And when she falls, when it hurts, I’ll be the one to carry her through it all.
The other reason is Akira’s fucking text. He knew about the letters. The asshole was well aware of everything that started ten years ago.
He also knows about my past and my Japanese middle name my grandparents prefer not to mention unless they absolutely have to.
Why do I get the impression that the reason Akira played that card isn’t only to taunt me but also because he has a hidden agenda?
But what?
After going back to my apartment and changing clothes, I head to the firm. My head still hurts from the cold, but it’s nothing painkillers can’t take care of.
The moment I walk in, I find it in a state of chaos.
Daniel sits on Candice’s desk, talking to the new interns and grinning for the sole purpose of showing his damn dimples.
“I know you guys meant to go into my office and made the small mistake of walking into the wrong one.” He snaps his fingers. “Come on, Kate, Omar. Grab your things and come to my world of fun.”
They look between Daniel and Candice, who’s standing by her office, crossing her arms and tapping her leg on the floor.
“Like hell they are,” she snaps. “You should leave, Mr. Sterling.”
“Stay out of it, Candice.” He doesn’t pay her any attention as he continues his grinning session. “I promise more fun than the cold-hearted idiot.”
“Mr. Sterling, please get off my desk so we can work.”
“One sec, Candice. Don’t you have a sick boss to take care of?” He winks at Kate and Omar. “I never get sick, because my physique is strong. See these muscles? I played football in high school. Soccer for you guys.”
Candice raises a brow. “And Sebastian played football, real football, in both high school and college.”
“It’s not real football, love. The real one has the right name. Foot and ball. Not hand and whatever ball.” He directs his smile at the interns. “Lunch later? I’m more generous than your current boss.”
My assistant taps her foot manically at this point. “Are you going to get out or should I call Mr. Weaver? The senior Mr. Weaver who owns this whole place.”
“Jesus, Candice. Does Sebastian pay you extra to hold down the fort in his absence?”
“I don’t, but I’ll start to.” I walk inside Candice’s office and both interns stand up in greeting, still flustered by my colleague’s advances.
I give a hand gesture, so they sit back down.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?” Daniel jumps off from the desk, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
“You are.” Candice directs her no-nonsense gaze at me. “You should be resting.”
“I have important things to do. But first, Candice, take Kate and Omar to a late breakfast.”
My assistant gives Daniel the side-eye as if telling him, ‘See?’
“Hey, not fair—”
Daniel hasn’t finished his sentence when I grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him with me into my office.
As I kick the door shut, he pulls away and fixes his jacket, grumbling, “I’m suing you for assault.”
“Really? Physical assault because I dragged you?”
“No. Assault against fashion. The envy is real, mate.”
“Is that why you were trying to take my interns?”
“I was getting back what should’ve been originally mine. You stole them.”
“Don’t admit defeat then. Now, tell me how far you’ve gotten with information on Akira Mori?”
Daniel sits on the chair’s armrest and fingers the pencils on my desk. “The man is a sodding fort. There’s nothing to get.”
“How about Knox?”
“He doesn’t have much either. Just some shady transactions here and others there, which he only managed to get info about by pulling strings back home. His foster father doesn’t like digging into his partners’ personal lives.”
“So he’s spotless?”
“Legally? Squeaky clean.”
“Morally?”
“He has dubious relations with the Yakuza, but they use phantom LLCs all the time. So even if there’s a legal way to prove involvement, it’ll take decades—that is if you stay alive during the process.”
Fuck.
All this time, I had some sort of hope that Akira could be taken care of legally.