Chapter 2

After I finished crying, I managed to pull myself together. If I blew up now, all I would get would be a headache and nothing else.

We built this company together. I was a co-founder, and I owned thirty percent of the shares.

For my child and for everything I had poured into this, I wouldn't give it up without a fight. I wiped away my tears and settled back into bed.

When Barrett came back, he was smiling. "The doctor said you're doing much better. You'll be out of here in two days."

I looked at him and gave him a gentle nod.

*****

After I got out of the hospital, the thing I was dying to find out was who that intern was.

I showed up at the office without telling Barrett.

He looked surprised when he saw me. "Winnie? What are you doing here? Didn't the doctor tell you to rest?"

I made up an excuse about needing a financing document and headed straight for my office.

When I opened the door, I found a young woman inside, her makeup immaculate, lazily stirring her coffee as if she owned the place.

She paused for a moment when she saw me, but looked totally unfazed. She asked politely, "May I ask who you are?"

I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance, "Why are you in my office?"

She stood up, her tone breezy, almost flippant. "Oh, you must be Mrs. Kingsley. Hope that's okay. Mr. Kingsley said I needed a quiet spot to work, so he said I could use this office for now. You're okay with that, right?"

I ignored her provocation, my gaze landing on her feet. She had on a pair of limited-edition high heels.

Last week, Barrett had shown me a picture of these exact shoes and asked if I thought they looked good. He'd said, "They're a birthday gift for a VIP client's daughter. It's a limited edition, almost impossible to get."

And now, she was wearing them.

Just then, Barrett rushed in.

"Winnie, didn't you say you were here to grab the document and then leave?" he said, giving Jasmine Quinn a pointed look. "Jasmine, did you get the materials I asked for? The meeting's about to start."

Jasmine acted like she didn't hear him at all. Instead, she put on a cutesy voice, "Mr. Kingsley, my feet hurt."

Barrett glanced at me awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Winnie, once you find the document, why don't you head home? We've got a meeting coming up."

He walked behind the desk, took a pair of sneakers out of the cabinet, and set them by Jasmine's feet. "If you can't handle heels, why wear them? Go ahead and put these on."

Barrett might've sounded annoyed, but I knew it was all a front.

Jasmine slipped on the sneakers, gave me a quick, dismissive look, and snorted at me.

I never came here for any document anyway. As they walked out, I trailed after them to the conference room.

Barrett looked awkward when he saw me, but with all the execs watching, he couldn't really say anything.

Halfway through the meeting, I caught Barrett shuddering a bit, his cheeks turning red.

I pretended to drop my pen and bent down to pick it up.

Under the table, a sneaker-clad foot was rubbing up Barrett's leg, inching higher.

Barrett's hand clamped down on that ankle, keeping it from going any further.

I straightened up, my stomach twisting with nausea. The morning sickness hit me out of nowhere, and I rushed out of the conference room.

After dry heaving for a bit, I didn't bother going back. Instead, I grabbed my phone and checked PureJasmine's page.

Sure enough, she'd posted: [Who cares if his wife is here? I'm still the one sitting next to Honey. He's playing with my foot under the table. It's so thrilling.]

After reading it, I made up my mind. I gripped the USB drive tightly and marched straight into Barrett's office.

I plugged the USB into his computer. In less than thirty seconds, a covert sync tool was installed.