The Betrayal

Rhys Van Acker

I step out of the conference room, my heart still pounding from the tension that nearly derailed everything. It takes every ounce of self-control not to slam the door behind me. Instead, I allow it to close with a soft click.

The meeting could’ve gone disastrously if I hadn’t managed to pivot the discussion. The Sinclairs were already growing impatient. I’m thankful I had some preliminary data on hand, just enough to hold their interest, but the presentation was a far cry from what we’d promised.

I stride down the hallway, my shoes echoing sharply against the marble floor. My mind is racing, each step punctuating the anger simmering just below the surface. How the hell did this happen?

When I reach my office, I bark an order at my secretary without breaking stride. "Summon Miss Salinger. Now."

I push the door open and walk into my office. I drop into my chair, and I can’t help but wonder how the hell this happened. Peach is supposed to be reliable, diligent. Inst