| 107 | The New Heir

[ S E R A P H I N E ]

It must be the new job. Moving into another apartment. The big adjustments I'm being forced to make. And constantly stressing over my growing list of deadlines.

Or the fact that my brain's not letting me sleep much lately because of my lying, duplicitous, manipulative ex number two who's not even making an effort. Or it's all of the above.

Probably. “Serves you right.” I sigh and keep my eyes closed, burying my face in my pale, clammy hands. I lean against the door to the backseat as the sun heats the top of my head.

My neck feels strained more than usual. My vision's kind of foggy. Crap. I need a bed. Pronto. Or a stretcher, at some point. My legs and arms feel like they're tired of having bones.

“Shoot. Crap.” Pierre's cellphone is now lying between my boots. I didn't mean to drop it. Ugh. I hope I didn't crack anything. I pick up his phone and slide it into my pocket.

Calling Dominico is my last resort, but I might have to try. Just thinking of