CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT

Sean stumbled from the conference room, the outraged cries and accusations battering his ears. This couldn't be real. None of it could be real. He drifted down the sleek corridor, wingtips whispering over smooth tile.

Somewhere his aide asked if he was okay, and reached out to steady him. Sean recoiled, bile rising in his throat. The man kept trying to talk but his voice was distant, warbled. Numbness crept through Sean’s veins as he shuffled outside and sank into the waiting town car.

His family, his career, his life - all gone in an instant. He replayed the nightmarish scene in an endless loop during the drive. The matched documents, Kayla’s defiant stand, his mother’s wrenching sobs as his father exiled him from everything he held dear. His guts twisted.

The car halted at his modern glass condo. Sean hardly recalled the ride. He rode upstairs in a haze, his once-glittering future reduced to ashes blowing through his mind.

5 missed calls from Tate. The sight jarred Sean from his stu
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