Page 212 of Boardroom Sins

I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything.

I’ve got you, sweetheart.

I’ve got you.

Lies, as it turns out. All of it, lies. They were nothing but pretty words designed to keep me pliant and willing, to make me think I was special when really I was just another toy in his collection.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Gideon doesn’t let go. He just holds me tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back as I sob until my throat hurts and my eyes are swollen and there’s nothing left to cry out.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Gid. This is all my fault. You’re stuck here because of me, and?—”

“Stop,” he interrupts. “Whatever this is, whatever happened, it’s not your fault. You hear me?”

I shake my head, but he pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands. His brown eyes roam all over my face.

“Rae, you’ve spent the last six years taking care of me. You showed up every time I fucked up, even when I didn’t deserve it.” His thumbs stem the flow of my tears. “Let me take care of you for once. Okay? Just this once, let me be the strong one.”

More tears break loose. I nod, and Gideon pulls me back into his arms.

We stand there in that bland, anonymous apartment, two orphans clinging to each other in the wreckage of our lives. We might’ve stood there forever, if I didn’t feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I pull it out—and almost scream when I see who’s texted.

JILLIAN PIERCE

I know you hate me right now.

But they found something else with Elena’s remains.

You need to see this before anyone else does.

RAE

OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER

Evidence Log

Case: 2025-ME-11842

Item: Leather-bound journal, recovered with remains (Lazareva, Elena)

Nobody looks up at me when I step into the 24/7 diner. It’s like slipping into a coffin.

Jillian is in the back booth, hunched over a cup of coffee she hasn’t touched. She looks like hell. Her red hair is limp and unwashed, intent on escaping from its messy bun. Dark circles mar the skin beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her clothes are stained and rumpled, nothing like the chic facade she normally presents to the world.

I haven’t her like this since the day before she left me for a year with no explanation.

When she sees me, her face falls.

“Rae…”

I hold up a hand to tell her to stay seated—we won’t be hugging today. I slide into the booth across from her. Taking a page out of Lukas’s book, I fold my hands in my lap, straighten up as tall as I can, and breathe. It helps to center myself. Even if I don’t feel grounded in the slightest, I can at leastpretendto look that way.