“Multiple charities connected to The Steele Group are now under federal review after investigators discovered irregularities in funding transfers…”
A snort comes from the seat beside me.
“Irregularities,” Nick scoffs, leaning back into his chair. “Interesting way to put it.”
“Pricks,” Parker mutters under her breath on my other side.
Slater slides a file down the wall-length desk to Karson. “Two more board members resigned this morning.”
“Smart men,” Karson mutters, flipping the folder open to scan its contents without much reaction.
I watch the men buzz around the room quietly, my fingers curled loosely around the water bottle in my lap. Maverick leans in to look at the paperwork in front of Karson. Slater and Jeremy tap on their keyboards while simultaneously watching Perdition’s security footage. Cole and Elias enter the room, both smiling at me before they take a seat.
Three weeks ago, just sitting upright would have my ribs screaming. Now the pain is duller, more manageable. The bruising on my side and face has faded from violent purple to a sickly yellow. The staples in my scalp are gone too, and I’m finally able to shower properly without too much assistance. Karson still hovers over me like a hawk though, refusing to let me strain myself at all.
Jerry says I’m healing. I call it waiting.
Nick leans into my shoulder, drawing my attention to him.
“They’re starting to panic.”
My gaze shifts to the television again. Jack Steele stands at a podium outside his corporate office. Reporters shout questions at him while his security struggle to shield him. It’s the first time he’s made an appearance, I’m sure against the advice of his lawyer–Andy’s father. His smile is tighter now, but still there. I tilt my head slightly, eyes never leaving the screen.
“Not enough.”
The room falls silent. Karson’s eyes lift from the file he’s still flipping through, settling on me.
“What would be enough?” he asks.
I meet his gaze calmly. “For them to realize there’s no way out.”
Nick lets out a low chuckle. Karson doesn’t laugh. His storm-colored eyes stay locked on mine. Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifts.
“Good thing we’re just getting started.”
I hold his gaze a second longer, then flick back to the TV. The image has changed.
Melissa Steele pushes through a crowd of reporters outside of their home, one hand raised to shield her face from the cameras. Her head of security shoves the press back as she’s rushed toward a waiting Bentley. She disappears into the back seat as the anchor’s voice cuts through the noise.
“Melissa Steele, founder of The Children’s Legacy Fund, declined to comment today as questions continue to mount regarding the foundation's ties to The Steele Group. The charity is now part of the expanding federal investigation into the company's financial practices.”
My chin lifts slightly and a slow smile curls at the corner of my mouth. I watch the Bentley disappear from the screen. For the first time since I’ve met her, Melissa looks scared.
Good.
They spent my entire life controlling every piece on the board like a fucking game of chess. Moving me where they wanted. Sacrificing whoever they had to. All while smiling for cameras and raising a foundation that pretended to save children like me.
Now, it’s my turn. Only this time, they don’t get to see the moves coming.
“So,” Cole claps his hands together, the sharp sound breaking the quiet tension in the room. “What’s the next step?”
Nick stands from his seat and glides toward the center of the room. Everyone watches his move in silence. Elias shifts beside him, arms folding across his chest as he leans against the edge of the desk.
Parker slides her hand into mine, lacing our fingers together, and leaning her head onto my shoulder. Karson and Maverick both stare at our interlaced fingers. Parker notices immediately and snorts.
“Possessive assholes,” she whispers.
I huff a quiet laugh, and for a moment, the tension in the room loosens just enough to breathe.
