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“If I’m honest, it fucking sounds exactly like that.” The equipment beeped faster as Declan’s heart began racing.

“You need to calm down, Declan.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

Now it was my turn to blush. “It wasn’t because of the money.”

He shut his eyes tight, as if he wanted to disappear. I felt the same way.

When the silence got awkward, I said, “I really liked him Declan, and not to get money for me. I did it for you, Declan. I’ve been trying, but I just can’t do it on my own.”

His eyes were still closed, but now there were tears at their corners. He coughed, then said, quietly, “I’m sorry, Syd. It’s all my fault.”

“It isn’t!”

“I want you to be happy.”

“And I want you to be better. And we’re both getting what we want. I’m not selling myself into slavery, Declan. Besides, it’s over now.”

“Why?”

“We had a fight, or whatever. Anyway, he’s not coming back here anytime soon. We’re done.”

“But you’re okay?” he asked, like I was the one who needed saving.

“I’m fine. I’m with you, and that’s what’s best for everyone.”

Chapter 19

Owen

I should have fucking followed her.

Why was I sitting here, doing nothing on an island? Jesus Owen, what a fucking mess.

As soon as the plane returned to the island, I said goodbye to paradise. I had to face my demons, and Sydney. I needed to win her back.

Immediately after I stepped on the plane, I got out my phone and called the office. Even at this late hour, the key people were there, working with the legal team on fixing everything. Or so I hoped.

Thankfully, my last phone call had been effective, and instead of describing more problems, my people offered solutions, most of which I approved of. It seemed like everyone was collected enough to handle it on their own, and I wouldn’t need to use my ace this time. I would keep that pretty little picture of the DA for another issue.

My next call was to my personal lawyer, who reported on where they were regarding my own personal safety. It wasn’t a fruitful conversation – all the lawyer said was that I had to come home to discuss the matter in private.

Which was exactly what I did. After I deplaned I had my driver take me all the way to my penthouse in River North. I was on the lookout for paparazzi. Even though I wasn’t a public person, the latest inquiries by the IRS had made their way to mass media – influencing the stock, while they were at it – and I knew there would be people eager to hear what I had to say.

Thankfully, the parking garage was private territory, and I had to take just a few steps to the elevator that took me back home, without ever seeing another person.

My lawyer was there, having a cup of coffee on the balcony, waiting.

“Glad you decided to show up, Owen.”

I spread my arms. “Time to face the music.”

“Very well.” Baxter walked back inside and set his cup down. “Coffee?”

I slid open the bar door. “Whiskey.”

“Good choice, considering.”

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