Page 221 of The Rebel Billionaire

No!

I flick through the pages, wanting what I’m holding, what I’m seeing, to be a mirage… but no. Page after page of designs. Great designs, beautiful designs. Designs that Elise, our creative director, has shown me.

Why the fuck does Brooke have them?

A shiver racks my body.

It’s not possible.

I drop my chin to my chest and close my eyes.

But it is.

Brooke viewed each stolen design. She’s befriended Elise and has spent time in her office. Now this. Were these going to be her next pitch?

The elevator dings in the background, and I slide the papers back into the file, relocking Brooke’s desk and returning her key to its hiding place.

I enter my office and shut the door as a sharp pain constricts my chest.

There must be an explanation.

I pick up my phone and dial Elise’s number.

No answer.

Shit, she’s hiking in Italy until Sunday.

I stare at the file in my hand and head to Teresa’s office. Maybe she can shed some light on what I’ve just uncovered.

CHAPTER 66

HARPER

Bless Keith. It’s a relief to have him waiting when I exit the private practice.

“Everything all right?” he asks, holding the door open for me.

“Yes, apparently this isn’t unusual when you’ve had a nasty gastrointestinal bug. He’s running some blood tests as a precautionary measure. I’ll get the results back in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

“That’s good.”

I slide into the back seat and wait while I’m driven to the office.

When I arrive, Lucia greets me as usual.

I make my way up to my desk and open my desk drawer, placing my handbag at the bottom. I check Alex’s calendar in case he’s added a new appointment. He should be free, but his door is closed.

I head to the kitchen to make us both a coffee, but change mine to a peppermint tea when the smell intensifies my nausea.

I knock on Alex’s door.

“Come in.” His voice comes from inside, and I smile.

Despite all the time we spend together, the deep resonance of his voice sets off a fluttering in my belly and an ache in my chest.

I push open the door, balancing the tray holding our drinks.

“Only me,” I say, stepping through.