Page 9 of How to Play the Player

“Did we?” Jonathan’s gaze remains steady. “There are always blind spots when we’re close to a situation.”

I dismiss it immediately. “There’s no one else who had both the knowledge and the motive.”

He stands, matching my intensity. “You want to talk facts? Since that incident, she’s handled sensitive information for half a dozen other companies—companies that did their due diligence before hiring her. You really think they would’ve trusted her if there was any real evidence she leaked corporate secrets?”

I falter for a moment, then push back. “Why would she do it again? She already got her pay day?—”

“Stop.” Jonathan’s command cuts through my argument. “You’re reaching, and you know it. This is exactly why I didn’t consult you first. You’re too close to this, too wrapped up in your own pain to see straight.”

“That’s not?—”

“It is. And it’s clouding your judgment.” He steps closer. “You know what Kiera told me? Quinn just split from that business partner of hers, that we’re her first solo project. If she was really guilty, why would she risk everything by coming back to the scene of the crime? Think about it—she’s rebuilding from scratch. One wrong move could destroy her career before it even started. Why would she sabotage herself?”

“Releasing company secrets to the public did so well for her the first time, so of course she’d try to do it again.”

“Damn it, Nathan!” Jonathan slams his hand on his desk. “Not everything is about corporate espionage. This is my wedding we’re talking about. My future with Kiera. And I’m telling you, as your brother and your boss, I don’t believe Quinn Sanders is the bad guy.”

The silence that follows feels charged with electricity. I struggle to find a counterargument that doesn’t sound purely emotional.

“J, please.” I have nothing left to give other than to plead. “We have an entire PR department. Marcus and his team have handled high-profile events before?—”

“Marcus is great at traditional PR. But this isn’t just about press releases and photo ops.” Jonathan’s voice softens slightly. “This is about managing a complex narrative. How Kiera and I ended up together isn’t exactly conventional, and you know how the people in our world love to sensationalize everything. We need someone who can help us stay ahead of the story.”

“And you think Quinn is that person?” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice.

A memory ambushes me. Quinn’s birthday, how I’d spent weeks planning the perfect surprise, coordinating with her friends, finding that vintage bracelet she’d mentioned once in passing. The way her eyes had lit up, how she’d whisperedyou really see mebefore kissing me. How could I have been so wrong about who she was?

“Yes, she is. And do you want to know why I’m sure?” He fixes me with a stern look. “Because despite everything that happened between you two, despite how badly you hurt her afterward, she’s still willing to work with us. That says something about her character in my book.”

“I hurt her?” I sputter. “She betrayed us!”

“Did she? Last I remember, I only got to hear one side of the story. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you jumped to conclusions, then refused to hear her out because you’d convinced yourself she was the villain.” Jonathan shakes his head. “You posted those photos with other women before she even got back from being out of town. Before we had any proof. Hell, before we even got to investigate properly.”

His words are a hard pill to swallow. “I was protecting our company.”

“No, little brother. You were protecting your pride.” He sighs deeply, his expression softening slightly. “I understand this is difficult for you. I do. But I need you to trust my judgment on this one.”

I look away, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“I’m not asking you to like it.” Jonathan’s voice is firm but not unkind. “I’m telling you to respect my decision. This wedding means everything to Kiera and me.”

The words hang heavy between us. I want to argue further, but I can see the determination in my brother’s eyes. Once Jonathan makes up his mind, there’s no changing it—a trait we both inherited from our father.

“I’ll think about it,” I say finally, though we both know I’m still not convinced.

“Thank you.” He moves toward the door. “And Nathan? Just remember that sometimes our worst assumptions about people can blind us from who they really are.”

My stomach churns with a toxic mix of anger, doubt, and something else I refuse to name. My brother is set on this decision, and there’s nothing I can do about it. If things go south—like they inevitably will—he can’t say I didn’t try to warn him. After that, I can only hope I’m not too late to fix whatever crisis Quinn leaves in her wake.

“Trust me,” Jonathan adds, pausing at the door. “It’s all going to work out in the end.”

If I can’t get Jonathan to see he’s making a mistake, then I’ll have to convince the problem to take itself out of the equation.

Chapter Six

Quinn

The pit in my stomach that I’d managed to calm while the two men were gone is now out of my control again as I watch them reenter the dining room and stand at the head of the table. Jonathan carries himself with such authority, like someone who’s accustomed to getting exactly what he wants. And Nathan—God, the way his jaw tightens when he’s cornered… I used to trace that jawline with my fingertips in quieter moments.

---