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I don’t turn. “Doing what?”
“Cataloging. You’re filing away everything I’ve ever said into two folders, plausible and perjury. I can practically hear the damn tabs clicking.”
I turn my head. The ambient light from the glowing car dials cast deep shadows over his face. He looks tired, more than tired. He looks haunted.
“No, I’m not. I’m stressed, trying to figure out how to deal with this, how to prove the truth. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
It’s not a lie. Not exactly. But I can’t help that, in the back of my mind, I’ve been going over everything Sebastian has said to me, every action, every moment he was trying to make me feel safe. Was it all a ruse to get someone from the outside on his side? Someone who isn’t entangled with the Kings and their dark secrets? I would be the perfect alibi. What if that’s been Sebastian’s plan all along, and he’s played the perfect prince, so I’d let my guard down?
It’s happened before.
“But you know it’s not me,” he counters, his eyes briefly flicking from the slick, wet road to mine. They are dark and troubled, swirling with a mix of frustration and something similar to grief. “Someone is trying to frame me, someone who knows more than they’re letting on. Should I be wondering if you’re the one trying to bury me?”
The question hits me like a slap, knocking the air from my lungs. “Excuse me? I wasn’t part of any of this. I didn’t even know about it until your dad hired me. I don’t have any reason to—”
“Neither do I, Isabella! Why would I put my company and my future in jeopardy like this?”
I lean back, the movement stiff. “Unless that’s exactly what you want us to think.”
Sebastian lets out a sharp, bitter laugh and runs a hand roughly through his hair. “You’re so fucking cynical. And right now, it’s exhausting.”
“It’s not cynicism,” I snap, “it’s survival.”
The silence returns, heavier than before.
Ten minutes later, my stomach rolls over so hard that I grab his arm. “Pull over. Now.”
He swerves onto the shoulder, and I barely get the door open before I’m sick in the rain. When I finally sit back, shaking, he’s holding out a handkerchief, his jaw tight.
“Stress,” I say before he can ask. “And these roads.”
He doesn’t argue. Neither of us has the energy.
“We need to talk about plan B, and C, and even D.” I force my voice to stay calm. If I keep it professional, I won’t cry. If I keep it professional, I won’t remember the way he held me last night. “Who had the resources to do this? Who benefits from both the DOJ investigation and the public scandal?”
Sebastian sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know who this would benefit, except our rivals. Corinth Capital will come out well if they succeed in the hostile bid. But my brother Jesse would get another reprieve from his screw-ups.”
“Would Jesse have access to a legacy key?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” Sebastian says. “He doesn’t contribute much, but he’s grown up in the company. He knows how things work and where the bodies are buried, so to speak.”
My heart lightens for a fraction of a second, a desperate hope fluttering in my chest. But then, the old ghost whispers in my ear.
They always give you a scapegoat or an excuse. Dad gave you dozens, and Mark gave you even more.
Sebastian’s hand tightens on the wheel. “We need to find the point of origin for the bribe. The money trail is supposed to be untraceable, but there has to be something out there. If we can’t find it, we’re screwed. We have to see what’s on my father’s personal computer.”
I freeze. “At his house?”
“Yes, at his house.”
“If someone finds us, you’ll be fine, but I’ll be an accessory to breaking and entering. Or corporate espionage.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
I stare at him, wondering if he actually believes what he’s saying. “You say that like you have control over it. You don’t. Maybe your money will protect you, but I don’t have those kinds of connections.” My voice rises as I begin to feel fissures forming due to the stress and my rising frustration. “You’re asking me to put my neck on the line, Sebastian.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
