Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Cara breezed into the office with the documents I’d requested. “I forgot to tell you something. I found it so endearing.”
She always found charming things about Dallas, though whenever they shared a room, she hardly doled out positive attention.
I slammed my drawer shut, accepting the speech she’d printed. “I doubt I’ll share the sentiment, but carry on.”
“She changed into her pajamas as soon as she set foot inside.”
“Are you sure the word you were looking for is endearing and not lazy?”
“But what she did after that, when she thought I wasn’t looking, was so sweet. She dragged your coat around the house like it was a little fluffy toy, sniffing it when she thought no one was looking.”
Shortbread had begun to show signs of domestication. You’d think I’d take pleasure in that. After all, I wanted to keep her.
Sadly, it brought me no pleasure to see my naïve wife confusing lust with something deeper.
I wasn’t a lovable creature.
I wouldn’t pretend to be one.
I skimmed the speech, lips pursed, making quick changes before the urgent press conference I’d scheduled an hour from now. “Thank you, Cara.”
“And if it makes any difference at all…” Cara loitered, sighing. “She looked really shaken about what happened. I think she regrets it. I do, Rom.”
I hated that Cara knew Morgan cheated on me with Senior.
Hated that she’d broken the news, requesting my urgent presence at the penthouse all those years ago, because she’d known I needed to find them myself to believe it.
“I’m utterly disinterested in my wife’s mental state.” I stood, handing her the speech changes while snapping my gum, surprised my jaw was still intact with how excessively I’d chewed today. “Have this edited, proofread, and returned to me in the next twenty minutes. And get me my gold tie. The one best suited for cameras.”
She pulled a face, accepting the papers. “You’re projecting, Rom. Dallas isn’t Morgan. She’s just a kid. A wild kid but a good one. She shouldn’t pay for Morgan’s sins.”
Shortbread wasn’t Morgan, all right.
She would never be in a position to hurt me.
My walls were too tall, too thick, too cold for her to slip through.
If only I could see Madison’s face as I delivered this speech, I’d frame it in Zach’s gallery.
As it was, I did, in fact, hire Alan to capture it, which was why I’d tacked on an extra hour before this press conference. The man needed time to find the perfect angle.
I settled behind the Costa Industries podium in our headquarters press room.
I’d practiced this face in the mirror a few minutes ago, since it wasn’t one I had experience in using. Remorseful, dedicated, and somber.
No hard feat, seeing as I’d spent the majority of the afternoon pep-talking myself into not murdering my father.
A bevy of reporters, journalists, and photographers from national and international media outlets sat before me.
I deliberately took my time, careful not to unleash my satisfaction on my face. Well, the little gratification I possessed.
Shortbread had ensured the thorough ruin of my day.
And life.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Today, at approximately 10:30 a.m. Eastern Time, news broke that Licht Holdings Corporation, whom we considered colleagues, peers, and co-pilots in the effort to strengthen the U.S. Army, disposed of dozens of toxic PFAS chemicals in the water stream in Newsham, Georgia, a small blue-collar town in which Licht Holdings manufactures weapons.”
I paused, frowned, pretended to give half a damn. Enough to convince people I genuinely cared—and so they wouldn’t suspect me of tipping off reporters about the story.
“Upon a detailed investigation, we’ve confirmed this has caused high rates of cancer, depression, suicide, learning disabilities, and asthma within this already struggling community.”
Another pause.
“We are still in the process of discovering all the suffering and pain this thoughtless, reckless move by Licht Holdings has inflicted. However, I would like to assure you, right here and now, that Costa Industries condemns these actions. We are, and always will be, committed to serving the communities we are part of and not vice versa.”
A few journalists raised their hands. Photographers snapped pictures, buzzing with energy.
You couldn’t tell a story like this without pictures, so I’d paid a hefty sum to the families affected by the toxic chemicals to share photos of their dying relatives, ruined lungs, infested limbs, and chemotherapy journeys.
I didn’t feel half guilty about it.
Not the part where I paid distressed people to share their tragic stories. And not about bringing this to light, preventing other companies from exhibiting this behavior in the future.
“While I share little about my personal life in public, I’d be remiss not to mention my wife is Georgian, born and bred. Thus, I am especially fond of the state.”
A ripple of giggles rolled through the crowd. At least complete strangers considered me a heartthrob.
Too bad Shortbread’s parting words were a promise to bite off my cock if I got close to her again.