An Abernathy betrayer.And as I drive through Seattle's glittering streets, I realize I've achieved something I never thought possible.
I’ve made Callum Abernathy regret letting someone in.
The MacTavish acquisition might survive this scandal…but whatever was growing between us is as fabricated as my resume—a beautiful fiction that couldn't withstand the harsh light of truth.
24
HASHTAG KILTED HEARTBREAK
CALLUM
The digital clock on my office desk reads 2:17 AM as I stare unseeing at the ceiling.
Outside, Seattle's night sky has cleared to reveal a surprising number of stars, their cold light filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows of the Abernathy Corp headquarters where I've retreated like a wounded animal.
Connor's engagement party imploded roughly four hours ago, yet I'm still in my tuxedo, bow tie hanging loose around my neck, sleeves rolled up as if preparing for a fight that's already over.
My mind replays the scene in excruciating detail.
Duncan's smug expression.
The crowd of whispering onlookers.
Karina's face as the truth collapsed around us like a house of cards.
The betrayal cuts deeper than I care to admit, awakening ghosts I've spent decades trying to bury.
My phone vibrates for perhaps the hundredth time tonight.
I ignore it, as I've ignored the dozens of texts from Connor, Grayson, and Luke.
Even Gran, who’s already headed back to Scotland on business, has left seven increasingly dramatic voicemails, the last threatening to "fly immediately to Seattle if you don't answer your bloody phone, Callum James Abernathy."
The office intercom buzzes."Mr.Abernathy?"Alana's voice fills the room despite the ungodly hour."Ms.Peters is here."
A surge of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion—crashes through me.
Of course she'd come here.
Where else would I be at two in the morning after public humiliation?
"Send her in," I say before I can think better of it.
The door opens and Karina enters, still wearing her party dress, though her carefully styled hair has come partially undone.
There's a determined set to her jaw that I recognize—the same expression she wore when facing down the board during the initial viral crisis.
"You're not returning my calls," she says.
Not a question, just a fact.
"I've been busy dealing with the fallout from your deception," I reply, my accent thickening as it always does when emotions get the better of me."The board's called an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning.MacTavish is threatening to walk away from the acquisition.And apparently, I'm trending again, though this time it's #KiltedHeartbreak.How thoughtful of the internet to keep track of my emotional state."
She winces but doesn't back down."I came to explain."
"Explain what, exactly?"I stand, needing the physical advantage of height."How you fabricated your entire professional history?How you've been lying to my face all this time?How I trusted you?—“
The rest of the words don’t make it out.They can’t.
