“I have people in tech who owe me favors.”
Translation; he got someone to hack into my phone.Mother. Fucker.
“I’ll call them. If that’s all—”
“It isn’t. See, they’re not the only ones blowing up my phone.” He pauses. “Would you happen to know a Hunter Aster? Interestingly, he tankedbothof our portfolios, and threatened to dismantle my company. Evidently, he’s under the impression that you harmed his sister—VictoriaLinden—and is gearing to go to war. Now, I’ve never been one to turn down a fun time, but I won’t be risking my neck foryoursake.”
Fuck. “Hunter’s a fucking sociopath.”
“Quite right,” Grant agrees coolly. “Why do you think I’m concerned? He was also threatening to get you permanently banned from F1.”
My stomach dips, but then an unsettling thought settles in my mind.Maybe that’s not a bad thing.
I tried. I failed. It could be time to move on, once and for all.
“You want to know what’s interesting?”
“No.”
“That the threats I’m speaking of came three days ago. Then they ceased, as if they’d never started, and he stopped fucking with my money. See, I heard from a little birdy that his sister—or half-sister, whatever their relation in that fucked-up family is—told him to back offor she’d never speak to him again.” He lets that sink in, and my jaw clenches.
“Is there a point to this goddamn conversation?” I seethe.
“Yes. Get your shit in order before I have to step in and do so. This self-pity spiral you’re stuck in is fucking grotesque, and I will not permit it to be attached to the family name. Oh, and by the way, another birdy told me you have a meeting with some big-shot tomorrow. Ali, I think.”
“Ilya,” I correct. Fuck, is it already Wednesday? I vaguely recall him telling me I better be in HQ on Thursday.
Skipping the meeting would be an easy way to get fired, which would save me the humiliation of resigning. Or of having to choose.Ifthat’s what I want.
WhatdoI want? Besidesher?I’m not going to get her; not even if I wanted to. I struck a blow right where I knew it would hurt most, and I did it deliberately and maliciously. There’s no coming back from that. Regardless that my actions shattered whatever was left of my heart.
“I’m a mess,” I mutter.
“Always have been,” Grant agrees easily. “It kind of looked like that was turning around for a bit. Ialmoststarted seeing you as competition. Thank you for regressing back into your natural state of a fuckup.”
“Fuck you,” I say without heat.
“Try not to provoke Aster into putting a hit on me, and do clean up your mess. I was getting used to not thinking about you.” He hangs up without further ado.
A knock sounds on my front door. I should be fuming after my conversation with my brother, but instead, I’m just… tired. Exhausted. Still drunk.
There’s a decent chance I have alcohol poisoning.
My door unlocks with a swish and click… and in strides Gio.Can today get any better?
He takes a nice, long look at me, then at the disarray of my apartment.
“How the fuck did you get in?” I ask.
“Your chef lent me his key. He’s been too frightened to come here.” Gio gives me a look up and down. “And for a good reason.”
Is today just going to be a rally of insults?
“Shower,” he says succinctly. “I will clean up and cook.”
“I’m not drinking another vomit-smoothie, and you aren’t welcome here,” I mutter.
“Please. I am welcome everywhere. Shower, or I will spray you down with ice water.” His tone turns dry. “Seeing you shiver like a wet rat would be an improvement.”
