Page 64 of How to Play the Player

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been investigating the leaks—both of them. The NorthStar deal and today’s story.”

My heart stutters in my chest. After all that talk about being right, he’s decided to look into the deal after a year? Today is to be expected but this, too? Something must have him suspicious, then. I continue listening with a neutral expression, though. “And?”

“My team found something. Several things, actually.” He turns his laptop toward me, pulling up a video file. “This issecurity footage from an internet café—the location where the NorthStar information was leaked last year.”

Holy shit. Okay, now he has my attention.

I lean forward, eyes fixed on the grainy black-and-white footage.

He continues. “The timestamp in the corner matches exactly when the leak occurred.”

“I was in New Mexico then.”

“I know now. You were completely off the grid.”

A foolish flutter of hope in my heart begins to take hold. I shove it down since Nathan isn’t done yet.

“The IP address that accessed and leaked the information came from this location,” Nathan continues, his voice carefully controlled. “Specifically, from this computer terminal here—” He points to a corner table where a woman sits alone, typing on a laptop.

This woman is taller than me, has darker hair, but sits with a familiar confidence. Where have I seen this posture? The revelation is close, but it’s too far away in my mind to reach out and grab it. If I had a better angle, it might be easier to see her face clearly.

“That’s not me,” I say quietly.

“Exactly, it’s not,” he confirms, using words I never thought I’d hear.

Is this a dream? Could this be happening? Is it okay to hope again?

The simple acknowledgement—those two words—hits me all at once. After a year of being blamed, of having my reputation almost destroyed and integrity questioned, of being branded a liar and betrayer, here is a piece of evidence, concrete evidence, that is already changing everything. And the most shocking part? Nathan found it.

“There’s more,” he says.

“More?”

He nods, swiping to another screen. “The article about Jonathan and Kiera was scheduled for publication three days ago—well before our…meeting this morning.”

The confirmation of what I already knew hits even harder with unexpected force. “Does this mean you believe me?”

Nathan’s expression is unreadable. What is he thinking with this discovery? “Yes. Especially when I received this text message.” He hands me his phone, displaying a text message:Quinn Sanders will ruin your reputation like she’s done to you before. Smart clients cut ties before more damage is done. You should think about doing the same.

I read it twice, a cold feeling settling in my stomach. “Are you saying someone is, and has been, setting me up?”

“Yes, I think someone is targeting you, using my family, and destroying your credibility, to do it.” Nathan’s voice is quieter now, almost hesitant. “Quinn, I—” He breaks off, looking down at his hands. Uncertainty, regret, and maybe even shame flashes across his face when he meets my eyes again, something I thought I’d never see.

“I think I… No. I… How do I say this? Fuck.” He shakes his head.

I’m in too much shock to say anything, so I wait.

“I was wrong to put all the blame on you. I was wrong to jump to conclusions like that. I think I was wrong in general, really. About you. About everything.”

After Nathan and I went our separate ways the first time, an apology and accountability were things I never thought I’d get. To get both brings tears to my eyes. His words hang in the air between us. I should feel vindicated, triumphant, or even the slightest bit tempted to tell himI told you so.Instead, I feel hollow. While I’m grateful for his admission, the damage has already been done. And we might be on better terms goingforward, but I don’t know if there’s ever going back to who we were to each other a year ago.

“No shit.” My voice comes out sharper than intended.

Nathan winces slightly but doesn’t look away. “I was wrong. And you have every right to be angry with me. Fuck, I deserve it.”

“I tried to tell you…”

“I know. And I should have put my ego, hurt, and anger aside to hear what you had to say. Not do what I did. If there was a better word thansorry,I’d use it.”

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