Page 103 of Breaking His Law

Excessive speeding.

The words all blur into one big alphabetical jumble.

Is this the real report?

Was the other a fake?

Where did Julie get this?

She’s unreliable. A fraud. That’s what Max, Nathan, all of them told me.

Showed me, even. The fabricated articles she published to damage Hart Law’s reputation. I read them all, and everything I’ve seen with my own eyes and know about Hart Law is lawful and goes against everything I thought I knew before I started working here.

Nathan and his brothers are kosher; his father, though, I’ve never met so how can I be so sure he is too? Maybe I wrote him off too quickly.

I’m now struggling to know what and who to believe, and how to separate fact from fiction.

I lay my hand on my stomach feeling like I am about to vomit my lunch back up and intake a deep breath to stop the squeamish feeling.

The weight of the decision squeezes my lungs, and I struggle to breathe.

My mission was always clear cut—loyalty to my family above all else.

But now there’s him.

My Nathan.

The man I love.

The man I think meant he wanted to marry me when he said make us permanent.

It’s what I want.

I still do.

I want to marry the man who let me cry in his arms on the night of my sister’s birthday and made me believe in a love that went beyond my obligation to my family, but now, somehow, that doesn’t feel right.

If I ignore this new information, I’ll be turning my back on my family and if I expose this crash report, he will never forgive me and I’ll lose him, and yet again, I’ll end up alone.

There’s no simple path.

I love them all and want the best for everyone, but whatever choice I make I betray someone.

What do I do?

I run out of the elevator and through the foyer, patting my face with the back of my hand to wipe away any evidence that I’ve been crying, in case I bump into anyone.

“I just need a few days,” I whisper to myself and inhale a deep breath as I step outside of the building.

Fear wraps around me like a tight coat as I try breathing fresh air into my lungs, but all it does is make me feel as if I’m suffocating.

I need somewhere to think, to hear my own thoughts away from the noise so I can find my answer.

What if there isn’t one?

40

NATHAN

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