17. Leslie The Fight Begins
Leslie: The Fight Begins
I stare at my phone, my stomach twisting into knots. The text message is still there, glaring at me from the screen.
A taste of your own medicine.
My fingers tighten around the device as I show it to Grace, my chest burning with frustration and confusion.
She leans in, her brows pulling together. “What the hell?” She looks up at me, eyes sharp. “Who sent this?”
I shake my head. “No clue. There’s no name, no number—just this.” I gesture at the words, my throat dry. “Like it’s some sick game.”
Grace frowns, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. Why would someone say this to you? Have you ever framed anyone before?”
I whip my head toward her. “What? No! Of course not.”
She lifts a brow. “Then why would someone say that? Why would they act like you deserved this?”
I let out a shaky breath, rubbing my temple. “I don’t know. I—” My voice falters. “I don’t think I’ve made enemies. Not like this.”
Grace tilts her head. “Well, someone clearly thinks you did.”
I sink onto the couch, my mind racing. “I’ve pissed people off before, sure. I’ve handled PR disasters, pulled strings, made tough calls. But this? This is personal.”
Grace sits beside me, tapping a finger against her knee. “What about Reeves?”
My stomach tightens.
“He called you the other day,” she continues. “And now, suddenly, there’s a picture of you with him? That’s too much of a coincidence.”
I swallow hard, replaying that conversation in my head. Reeves had sounded almost . . . smug. Like he knew something I didn’t.
What if this was his plan all along? What if I was just another piece in his game against Kyle?
I grip my hands together. “If Reeves set me up, then what does he gain?”
Grace sighs. “What do powerful men always want? Leverage. Revenge. Control. He could have done this just to ruin you and Kyle.” She leans closer. “And if that’s the case, you need to fight back.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Fight back? With what? The board already thinks I’m guilty. Kyle—” I pause, my throat tightening. “Kyle doesn’t believe me.”
Grace’s expression softens. “Are you sure about that?”
I hesitate.
I keep thinking about the way he looked at me in that conference room. Like he was forcing himself to stay cold. Like he didn’t want to believe I’d betrayed him, but he couldn’t take the risk.
Like he was torn.
But that doesn’t change the fact that he let me walk out.
That he didn’t fight for me.
I exhale shakily, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think he’s trying not to.”
Grace studies me for a moment before shaking her head. “Then screw him. If he won’t believe in you, believe in yourself. Find the proof. Clear your name.”
I run a hand through my hair, exhaustion pressing down on me. “And what if I can’t?”
Grace lifts her chin. “Then you start fresh.”
The words hang between us, heavy and unspoken.
A part of me considers it.
Leaving. Walking away from all of this. From Kyle. From the SMG. From everything that’s spiraled out of control.
But another part of me—the part that helped clear Theo's name, the part that refused to back down when things got tough—won’t let me.
I worked too damn hard to let someone take this from me.
Whoever did this? They wanted to break me. They wanted me to run.
I won’t.
Before I can say anything, my phone buzzes in my hand. I glance down and see Mia’s name flashing across the screen.
I quickly answer. “Mia?”
“Leslie,” she breathes, her voice urgent. “Where are you?”
I sit up straighter. “I’m at a friend's place. Why?”
“I went to your house,” she says quickly. “You weren’t there, so I started looking through some things. And I think—I think I found something.”
My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to say it over the phone.” She pauses. “Can I come and meet you over there?”
I exchange a look with Grace, my pulse picking up.
Mia has something. Something that might prove I was framed. For the first time in hours, a flicker of hope sparks inside me.
I swallow hard and give her the address.
As soon as I hang up, Grace nudges me. “See? You’re not alone in this.”
I nod slowly, gripping my phone tighter.
***
The second I hear Mia’s car pull up, I jump to my feet, my heart thudding with anticipation.
“She’s here,” I say, barely containing the hope rising in my chest.
Grace watches me with cautious amusement. “At least let the girl step inside before you start interrogating her.”
I ignore her and rush to the door, yanking it open before Mia can even knock. She looks startled for a second, then gives me a small smile.
“You act like I’m Santa bringing you a bag full of miracles,” she says, stepping inside.
I practically drag her in. “You said you found something. What is it?”
“Leslie,” Grace chides from behind me. “Let her breathe.”
Mia chuckles as she slips off her shoes. “It’s fine. I expected this.”
Grace shakes her head and disappears into the kitchen, muttering something about needing cookies to survive this conversation.
Mia settles onto the couch, but I don’t sit. My nerves won’t let me.
“What did you find?” I demand.
Mia holds up a hand. “Let’s wait for Grace. She’ll want to hear this too.”
I groan, pacing the living room. The suspense is eating me alive.
A minute later, Grace returns, placing a tray of cookies and juice on the coffee table. “Okay, spill.”
Mia sighs, taking a cookie but not eating it. “I went to see Amanda.”
That makes me pause. “Amanda?”
Mia nods. “I figured if anyone could help clear your name, it would be her. She’s the one who verified those emails, right?”
I fold my arms. “And? What did she say?”
Mia hesitates, playing with the edge of her sleeve. “She . . . wasn’t exactly helpful.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Mia shifts uncomfortably. “I asked her to look into everything again—to see if there was any way those emails could’ve been planted or altered.”
“And?” I press.
“She refused,” Mia says.
I blink. “Refused?”
Mia nods, her expression serious. “She said she couldn’t help because there was already proof against you.”
My stomach twists.
“That’s bullshit,” Grace mutters. “If she really wanted to, she could dig deeper.”
I sit down, my head spinning. “Why would she refuse?”
Mia hesitates, then looks at me with something unreadable in her eyes. “She said . . . she guesses it’s karma catching up with you.”
The words hit me like a slap. “Karma?”
Mia nods slowly. “She said it was like you were getting a taste of your own medicine.”
I freeze. My body goes rigid as her words sink in.
A taste of your own medicine.
The exact words from the text message. I snatch my phone off the table, my hands shaking as I pull up the message.
“Look at this.” I shove the screen toward Mia.
She reads it, her eyes widening. “Leslie . . . this is what she said.”
I nod, my heart pounding. “Exactly.”
Silence fills the room as the realization settles over us.
Grace leans forward, narrowing her eyes. “Mia, did she say anything else? Did she seem . . . off?”
Mia hesitates. “Not exactly. But when I asked her what she meant, she got weird. Like, she didn’t want to answer.”
Grace frowns. “How so?”
Mia swallows. “She got up suddenly and said she needed to grab something. Like she was trying to avoid the question.”
I grip the couch cushion. “And?”
Mia exhales, looking almost guilty. “Her phone was on the couch. It buzzed. I wasn’t going to look, but . . . I did.”
“What did you see?” Grace asks.
Mia meets my gaze. “The name on the screen was Anthony Reeves.”
The room falls into dead silence.
I feel like the floor has been ripped out from under me.
Amanda. Talking to Reeves?
Grace is the first to recover. “That’s . . . not a coincidence.”
Mia shakes her head. “It didn’t feel like one.”
I grip my forehead, trying to process it. “You think Amanda’s involved?”
Mia bites her lip. “I don’t know. But it’s weird, right? First, she refuses to help. Then she says that stuff about karma. And now she’s in contact with Reeves?”
Grace sits back, crossing her arms. “If she’s involved, we need to prove it.”
I nod numbly, my mind racing. “But how?”
Grace leans forward. “We go to Kyle.”
My stomach drops. “No.”
Grace frowns. “Leslie, come on. He has the resources. He can dig into this.”
I shake my head, my chest tightening. “He didn’t believe me when it mattered. He let me walk out of that conference room like I was nothing.”
Grace sighs. “You were blindsided. So was he. He might regret it now.”
I look away, the memory of Kyle’s cold stare still fresh in my mind.
Grace nudges me. “You need to put your pride aside.”
I swallow hard. “It’s not pride. It’s . . . hurt.”
Mia places a gentle hand on my knee. “Leslie, if Kyle can help clear your name, don’t you think it’s worth it?”
I don’t answer. Because deep down, I know they’re right. But I don’t know if I can handle reaching out to Kyle only for him to push me away again.
Because that’s what he did, wasn’t it?
He didn’t fight for me. He didn’t demand more proof or give me the benefit of the doubt. He just stood there in that conference room, his expression cold, his silence a verdict before I could even defend myself.
The memory stings like an open wound. The way his jaw tightened. The way his eyes barely softened before hardening again. Like he wanted to believe me—but chose not to.
A lump forms in my throat.
Maybe I was fooling myself thinking I ever mattered to him beyond work.
Maybe I was nothing more than a complication he was relieved to get rid of.
Before I can spiral any further, my phone buzzes in my hand. I glance down, my breath catching.
Kyle.
I stare at his name on the screen, my heart pounding.
Grace and Mia exchange glances.
“He’s calling you,” Grace murmurs.
I tighten my grip on the phone.
I should answer. I should hear what he has to say.
But I can’t. Not right now. Not when I’m still raw from his betrayal.
So, I do the only thing I can.
I let it ring. And ring. And ring. Until it finally stops.
And the silence that follows is deafening.