Page 117 of Terms of Exposure
"Send my regards to Damien."
I froze. "What?"
"Damien," he repeated. "You two seem to be close."
My pulse ticked up.
"Why would you think that?"
Footsteps approached, Nathan's breath hot against my ear. "Just a feeling."
Fuck.
Without another word, I turned the handle and walked out. The door clicked shut behind me.
I pulled out my phone.
Emma: He's onto us.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Frustration mounted as I waited for his response.
I typed a follow-up, but never hit send—Damien's voice coming from behind me.
"Ms. Sinclair, can I have a quick word? It's about the summit proposal."
I turned. He was halfway down the hall, his long strides eating up the distance between us.
Thank god.
"Of course, Mr. Holt, but I have to warn you I have a meeting scheduled at Elion in twenty minutes."
"No problem at all," he said smoothly. "This will only take a moment."
I nodded, following him back toward his office.
The moment the door closed, my face fell.
"We're so fucked," I groaned.
He reached for me. I leaned away.
His expression hardened. "Did he touch you again?"
"Just my shoulder," I admitted. "Nothing crazy."
"You shouldn't have to minimize this."
"What am I supposed to do? Report him?"
"Yes," he answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.
"And then what?" I glared at him. "He retaliates? Exposes the felony you committed?" My voice started to shake. "Not to mention our relationship timeline. The conflict of interest. The—"
"Stop," he cut in, pulling me into his arms. "Everything will be okay."
I shoved away, shaking my head. "No, I don't think it will."
"He hasn't made a move. Has no proof of us other than suspicion."
