Chapter Twenty-One
Quinn’s office
Early evening
Quinn
A s I approach my office, keys in hand, heart hammering against my ribs, I spot a familiar figure pacing outside my door—Nathan, already here, waiting for me. He hasn’t noticed me yet, his body taut with tension as he checks his watch. His other hand clutches a bag.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself after the emotional rollercoaster of today. First the accusations in this very office, then the lifeline of the Dallas Lifestyle interview, and now…this mysterious meeting Nathan insisted on.
Jonathan’s words still reverberate in my mind. He’s starting to consider other possibilities.
What possibilities? I’m highly suspicious of what I will hear. Will it be what I’ve already heard, and I’m just wasting my time, or something different entirely? Could it be the very thing I’d thought of, but never allowed myself to hope for?
I tighten my fingers around my keys, the metal edges digging into my palm. I’ve spent hours helping his brother and future sister-in-law navigate their PR crisis—proving my loyalty, my professionalism—while nursing the fresh wound of Nathan’s blame and rejection. And now he wants to talk?
I shouldn’t have come. I’m tired of being the only one fighting to prove myself.
But I’d be no better than him if I chose not to come. Unlike him, I’m deciding to be an adult and listen to what he has to say. That’s more than he could’ve ever done for me a year ago. That has to mean something. At least then, when all is said and done, I can walk away having no regrets.
Nathan looks up at the sound of my approaching footsteps, his expression a complicated mix of anxiety and determination. His usual cocky demeanor is nowhere to be found. His tie is loosened, collar open, and dark circles consume the bags under his eyes. He looks worse than the last time I saw him.
“Quinn,” he says, my name sounding hard in his throat. He even sounds tired. He straightens immediately, his posture stiffening as if bracing for impact. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“Nathan.” I keep my tone neutral, professional, as I move to unlock my office door. I don’t like not knowing what’s about to happen. Then again, I’ve never liked surprises. “How did it go with the board?”
Small talk. Safe ground. Anything to delay the real conversation. At least for now.
“Productive. Jonathan handled it well. The board isn’t as anxious now.” He follows me inside, waiting until I flip on the lights. “After this morning, I wouldn’t have blamed you for telling me to fuck off.”
“I considered it,” I admit, setting my purse down and keeping a deliberate distance between us as he begins pulling several files from his bag and setting it all on my desk. A laptop, several folders, and what looks like printed photos of security footage. “You said you had something to show me.” I gesture to his so-called evidence. “Here I am. So begin.”
The memory of what happened just this morning hangs heavy in the air—his mouth on my skin, my body responding to his touch, followed by his cold blaming when the story broke. The reminder sends another pang to my heart.
“That interview your brother and Kiera did went well,” I continue, filling the awkward silence. “Sarah was receptive. The piece should shift the narrative significantly and do a lot of the leg work in terms of damage control when it runs tomorrow.”
“Quinn—” Nathan starts.
“Begin,” I reiterate. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Not until he’s shown me what he wanted me to see.
“Can we sit? Please?”
Something in his tone makes me pause. He seems…different. Less certain, more vulnerable than I’m used to seeing him. I haven’t seen this side of him since…
Cautiously, I do as he asks and move toward my desk, taking the chair opposite his.
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 is security 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 him I 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 going forward, 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 than sorry, I’d use it.”
Strangely, I believe him when he says that.
He continues. “I can’t undo what I did. I know that. But let me help you at least.”
I close my eyes briefly, trying to process the enormity of what’s happening. It’s all coming at me at once, like sitting in the splash zone at Sea World. A part of me wants to scream, throw things at him, to make him feel a fraction of the pain I’ve carried for a year. But the other part—despite my anger and hurt—still aches for him, for what we lost, for what might have been.
If something as dramatic as this happens again, I don’t know if he’ll be there for me. Would he have the sense to stop and listen to me? Would he choose to give me the benefit of the doubt rather than forsake me? Or will he just accuse me without a second thought? I don’t think I can go through another round of rejection for the wrong reasons.
“Why now?” I ask finally. “Why did you start investigating after all this time?”
“Because of us,” he admits. “Being around you again, working together… It made me start reconsidering things I thought I was certain about.” He hesitates. “And then my brother said something that made me wonder if I’d been wrong all along.”
Is he for real?
“So it took your brother’s doubt, not mine, to make you reconsider.” I can’t resist letting out the bitterness in my voice.
He winces again. “You have every right to be angry at me, never want to see me again, wish for a special place in hell for me. I deserve everything, and then some.” He leans forward, hands clasped between his knees. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I know I’m not worthy of it, especially from you. But I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. Sorrier than I’ve been about anything.”
This isn’t the Nathan I’ve come to expect. Rather than being defensive, accusatory, and certain of his own rightness, the Nathan I’m seeing before me seems genuinely remorseful, even broken.
“What happens now?” I ask, because I don’t know what else to say. The ground has shifted beneath my feet.
And to think that wouldn’t happen again in the way that it did.
“You want to find out who’s really behind this as much as I do,” he points out, determination creeping into his tone. “Someone deliberately set you up then and is doing it again now. And based on this text I got, they’re getting cocky. Let me assure you, I won’t let that stand.”
“You want to help me?” I raise an eyebrow.
“If that’s what you want,” he adds quickly. “This is my fault. Let me try to make it right.”
How the tables have turned. This morning, I was saying the exact same sentence, Let me try to make it right. Hearing it from his own lips is something I didn’t expect to happen today.
I study him for a long moment, weighing my options. The professional in me knows I’d need all the help I can get. That Nathan has connections that could do more than I’d be able to on my own. Also, this isn’t just for me but for the sake of Jonathan and Kiera, which makes Nathan more involved than I’d like to admit. But the woman in me isn’t sure she can trust him again. Not with all the scars he’s left.
“I need some time to process this. But that doesn’t mean I forgive you or that anything has changed between us,” I say finally.
“Of course,” he replies with understanding.
“However… Yes, I’d like for us to work together. But we’re not going to make this about us.” I release a steady breath. “It’s about protecting your brother and his fiancée from any further scrutiny.”
Relief crosses his features. “What you say goes.”
Damn right.
I nod, acknowledging his response. “So what’s our next step?”
Nathan straightens, shifting back into business mode. “We need to identify who that woman is. And we need to figure out who would have access to the information, along with the motive, to leak it.”
“I can’t help but wonder if it’s someone we both know,” I exclaim. “Someone who would not only benefit from destroying my reputation but also from causing problems for Knight Industries.”
“The list of people who knew about the NorthStar deal was, at the client’s request, very small,” Nathan says. “Just Jonathan, Jake, the client, and me. And then you, because I told you.”
“And whoever this is.” I gesture to the frozen image on the screen.
He nods. “Exactly.”
I lean back in my chair, my mind working through the possibilities. “If this is the same person, how would they have known about Jonathan and Kiera’s story? Who knew those details before they were leaked?”
“That’s an even bigger question and list,” Nathan admits. “Our immediate circle, plus Kiera’s family, the wedding planning team…”
“And me,” I add. “It could be anyone.”
A contemplative silence falls between us as we consider the possible connections. But nothing seems to stick.
“We should compile a list,” I suggest. Everyone who had access to both sets of information. At some point, we should come across a wrinkle.”
“I agree.” Nathan hesitates, then adds, “I’ve asked our head of security to continue investigating. He’s looking into connections we might have missed.”
“Good. But I want to be involved in every step of the investigation,” I insist.
“I want you to be.” He meets my gaze steadily.
The sincerity in his voice is something I haven’t heard in such a long time, it catches me off guard. I can’t help but look away, uncomfortable with the emotions it stirs. Part of me wants to trust him again, to believe he’s truly sorry, but past hurts make me hesitate. I could eventually forgive him if we get past this. But I don’t think I could ever forget, much less believe he won’t falsely accuse me of something whenever he doesn’t get his way.
“It’s getting late,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I should head home. It’s been…a day.”
Nathan nods, beginning to gather his materials. “Of course. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
As he packs up his laptop, a question forms in my mind that I can’t quite suppress. “If you’d found evidence confirming I was guilty instead of all this, would you have shown me? Or would you have just used it against me?”
He stops, looking up at me with an expression that seems genuinely pained. “Honestly? I don’t know. Before today, before really looking into all of this…” He gestures to the evidence spread between us. “I probably would have used it to push you away from my family. To protect them.” He pauses. “But now? I’d like to think I would’ve been fair and aware enough to at least confront you directly.”
Even though it hurts, I appreciate his transparency. “Thank you for that, at least.”
Standing, the room suddenly feels too small, every molecule of air between us weighted with all the things left unsaid.
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Nathan says, carrying his bag over his shoulder. “We can start putting together that list of suspects then.”
I nod, keeping a careful distance as I walk him to the door. “I’ll be in early. And the Dallas Lifestyle piece should be ready for final approval by nine tonight.”
He pauses at the threshold, turning back to face me. For a moment, I think he might reach for me, but his hands remain at his sides. “Quinn,” he says softly. “I know words are not, and probably never will be, enough. But I am truly sorry for everything I put you through. For not giving you the benefit of the doubt when I should have.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten. My head and my heart are at odds. My head says to get this done and never see his face again, taking this closure with me while I still can. But my heart? My heart wants to run back to him, even if that means the possibility of getting burned again. I don’t know what to do. “Good night, Nathan.”
After he leaves, I lock the door behind him and lean against it, finally allowing the emotions I’ve been suppressing all day to surface. Tears stream down my face, as I can no longer hold them back.
I move to my desk and sink into my chair, staring at the space where Nathan’s evidence had been spread out. Someone wants to ruin my life—and just about succeeded last year. Someone wanted to destroy my relationship with Nathan, and now they’ve come back for round two, this time at the expense of Nathan’s family and Knight Industries.
Who would do something like this? Why?
The questions swirl in my mind as I gather my things to leave. Who the hell did I piss off then and now? What is their endgame? Whatever the answers, I plan to figure this out. Not just for my own innocence, but also to protect Jonathan and Kiera from further harm.
And maybe, foolishly, to finally put the ghosts of my relationship with Nathan to rest once and for all. Whether that means finding a way forward together or going our separate ways, I don’t know. But for once, I can finally look forward to tomorrow.