Page 142 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

I swivel my chair toward her.

“For this to stop being a feeding frenzy, maybe.”

Grace steps into my office and closes the door behind her.

“The story has been leading the business cycle for five days,” she says.

“It's not going to disappear because you feel uncomfortable.”

“This isn't about being uncomfortable.”

“What is it about, then?”

I glance toward the newsroom beyond the glass wall. One of the televisions is running footage of Julian entering Blackwell headquarters beneath a wall of cameras.

I look away.

“The assignment changed,” I tell her.

“I was writing a profile about the family and the company. Their history. Their structure. How they operate behind the public image. If we publish it now, none of that is going to be read in the context it was gathered.”

Grace folds her arms.

“That is exactly why we need it now.”

“No, Grace. That's why we shouldn't.”

Her eyebrows rise.

“You want me to sit on exclusive reporting about one of the biggest companies in the country while every other publication is scrambling for access?”

“I want us not to turn a long-form profile into ammunition for a scandal that didn't exist when I conducted the interviews.”

Grace stares at me. For a moment, neither of us speaks.

Then she sets the folder on the edge of my desk.

“The clock is ticking,” she says.

“Legal expects Blackwell to start sending cease-and-desist letters, access restrictions, maybe injunction requests depending on what they're trying to contain. Once that happens, everything becomes harder.”

“That doesn't make publishing faster the right thing to do.”

“It makes publishing before we're locked out the smart thing to do.”

My stomach rolls.

I press my palm against it and breathe slowly through my nose.

Grace notices.

“You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.”

“I think I picked something up traveling.”