Page 27 of Violent Little Thing

Seraphina, on the other hand…

Rage burned in my throat as I said, “There’s a bit of a difference killing someone because you decided to drink and drive, as compared to killing someone because your body converted carbs to alcohol.”

Seraphina frowned. “He was drunk.”

“He has Auto Brewery Syndrome.” I rolled my eyes. “I know this is hard for you to understand, because you’ve probably broken your brain with all those drugs and alcohol, not to mention sexual diseases from sleeping around to get what you want, but the syndrome that he has is literally out of his control. It’s something to do with his gut biome. He eats sugar, that gets converted to alcohol in his blood instead of digested the normal way. I can almost guarantee you that you ate whatever the hell you wanted today. Court can’t do that.”

Well, he could.

There were ways to fix the issue, but for some reason, I just couldn’t see Court fixing the issue. It was more likely that he just never gave himself carbs in any abundance. He probably lived a sad, miserable life not getting to enjoy cake.

I wouldn’t be able to survive.

I made a mean chocolate cake, and I did so every weekend because I had an unhealthy relationship with it. Plus, chocolate always made you feel better.

Needless to say, after taking the job with Chris, I’d needed it to continue on with my life.

“This has degraded,” Suzanne Edwards, one of the board members, murmured. “This is a situation that we need to figure out before we go public. That’s not what the team needs, knowing that the owners don’t get along.”

I snorted.

Get along?

What was she, crazy?

That, or she’d deliberately buried her head in the sand when it came to Seraphina’s faults.

If she wanted to avoid scandal, she would’ve put a muzzle on Seraphina years ago when she’d first come onto the board.

Or, hell, maybe this all was my fault.

I should’ve been participating a long time ago instead of letting Seraphina fuck everyone the way she wanted.

I should’ve been more of a pain in her ass…

“Let’s talk what’s next,” Fritz, another member of the board, suggested. “What do we want to see this season?”

“The budget, for sure, needs to get an overhaul,” Court said. “I’ve already hired a forensic audit company that’ll be looking into all the expenses for the last fifteen years.”

Fifteen years was right around when I’d first gotten onto the owner’s list.

That was what I would’ve suggested had he asked.

I don’t think that’s. Benedict signed, but Beau interrupted him. “It’s necessary.”

Benedict added more, but it was easy to ignore him since he didn’t speak. I could just look away and it was like magic.

When Sonja and I had first become friends, I’d done my damndest to learn sign language to be able to understand her dad. Now, I kind of hated that I could.

I wished that I could do the same for Seraphina.

She’d be a whole lot less annoying if I didn’t have to hear her voice.

It was like nails on a chalkboard.

The sound of a dog puking and dread pooling in your gut.

The knocking of your car engine that you don’t have money to fix…