Page 190 of Terms of Exposure
My blood heated—sharp, immediate—each memory stoking the fire.
It's fine.
It wasn't that big a deal.
Only my shoulder.
I took a breath, forcing the air all the way in.
I'm not my father.
Nathan leaned back in the chair, crossing one ankle over his knee.
"You think I don't know?" He laughed—an ugly, wet sound. "You've been parading it around the office for weeks. The lingering looks. The private conversations. The way you hover over her like a dog guarding a bone."
His gaze glittered with triumph.
"You aren't sneaky, Holt. You never have been."
"Is that all?" I asked, letting a hint of boredom creep into my tone.
His smile faltered—just a fraction. "You're not concerned?"
"About what?" I tilted my head. "Office gossip? People talk, Nathan. They always have. If you're expecting me to panic because a few assistants noticed I enjoy Ms. Sinclair's company, you're going to be disappointed."
"This isn't gossip." His voice hardened. "This is leverage."
"Is it? Because from where I'm sitting, all I see is a man who just lost a board vote grasping for anything that might make him feel powerful again."
Nathan's gaze narrowed.
There it is.
"You want to go public with rumors about my personal life? Go ahead." I spread my hands. "But before you do, ask yourself—what exactly do you have? A hunch? A few observations? Some secondhand whispers from people who've already stopped caring?"
His nostrils flared.
"You're good at this," Nathan said, almost admiringly. "The deflection. The intimidation. Very polished."
He uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. "But here's the thing, Holt. I don't actually care who you're fucking. What I care about is the audit."
Here we go.
"Those numbers didn't just appear out of thin air. Someone rewrote them. Someone with access, resources, and a very compelling reason to make Elion look like a golden goose instead of a sinking ship."
He tapped a finger against his knee.
"And I've been thinking about the timeline," he said. "The original audit leaked. Elion's stock tanked. The merger was circling the drain. And then—miraculously—a new audit appeared. Verified by a third party no one's ever heard of. Numbers so clean they practically sparkled."
His gaze narrowed.
"That didn't happen after the merger was approved, Damien. It happened before. Right when your little CEO was about to lose everything."
I kept my breathing even. My hands still.
"You faked those numbers. Not for Falkirk. Not for the board. For her."
"That's quite a theory," I said, keeping my voice even. "Do you have any proof?"
