Page 92 of Empire State Enemies

“Hey, look at me.” I hammer the button for the executive floor as if it’s somehow responsible for this mess.

“I told you to look at me,” I say with a bit of an edge when she doesn’t look up. “The game’s up.”

Something seems to shift and snap in her. She lifts her head, bracing for a fight. “Fine. You know what? I did it. I had my reasons, not that you’d get it.”

I’m momentarily stunned by her brazen admission.

“I did it,” she repeats, louder this time, almost challenging me to explode.

“You did it,” I echo, still processing. I didn’t expect her to cave so easily.

Her chin sets in defiance. “If you want to call the cops, go right ahead. If you want to get me fired, be my guest.” Her voice trembles, but she presses on. “If you’re determined to destroy me, then just do it already. But I refuse to live like this anymore! I won’t be a victim of your whims, always at your mercy!”

“You really think you had good reasons to steal? That’s your angle?” I throw back at her, arms crossed. “There’s always another way out. Ever heard of asking for help instead of resorting to car theft?”

She has the audacity to laugh right in my face. “Get real, Connor. Ask for help?” She shakes her head. “I get it, you built this empire from the ground up, and that’s commendable. But did it ever cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, you had a bit of luck on your side too?”

“Irrelevant. We’re not talking about me. This is about you, your mess-ups.”

But she stands her ground, her eyes blazing. “Oh, is it so irrelevant? Imagine this: back in your early days, you and Killian struggling to make ends meet, and suddenly you’re hit with asick family member. Medical bills piling up, treatments you can’t afford. Would you still be sitting pretty in your fancy office if life had thrown you that curveball?”

She’s practically vibrating with intensity, her words coming fast and sharp. “Yes, you’ve worked hard. But everyone faces different obstacles. It’s not just about working hard and being a good person.” She jabs her finger into my chest, punctuating each word. “Spare me the holier-than-thou bullshit about ‘finding other ways.’”

She’s right in my face now, pushing against me, sparking for a reaction.

I start connecting the dots of her defiance. “You pulled this stunt to cover your mom’s medical bills?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “Yeah, I did it. And even with all the fallout, I know in my heart it was for the right reasons. It was a mistake, sure, but if I had to go back . . .” Her voice quivers, but she’s solid as a rock. “I’m not sure I’d change a damn thing.”

She jabs her finger at my chest again. “But this isn’t really about the theft, is it, Connor? It’s about you and your need to control.”

Her gaze is fierce. “Wouldn’t have mattered if I’d taken a toy car key. You’d still have lost your shit. Well, I refuse to grovel for your understanding or forgiveness.”

“Enough,” I growl, catching her accusing hand in mine, feeling her pulse hammer wildly against my skin. “Can you prove that the money went toward her care?”

Hurt flashes across her face. “Really, Connor? Even now, after everything, you still think I’m just some gold-digger?”

She tries to pull her hand back, but I’m not letting go, our eyes locked in a showdown.

“I don’t see you like that,” I grit out. “But dammit, you could’ve hit me up for help instead of pulling that stunt.”

Her laugh is full of scorn. “Yeah, right. You were all heart, weren’t you? You’d have told me to fuck right off.”

“You’re wrong,” I counter. “I know I was messed up that night, but I would’ve helped if you’d told me you were in trouble.”

I hesitate, a flicker of self-doubt gnawing at me. Was I even capable of helping that night?

Her tears are flowing now, and on impulse, I reach out, awkwardly trying to wipe her tears.

As we reach the executive floor, I jam the elevator on hold. Can’t have her running off now.

“We could’ve skipped all this drama if you’d just been upfront with me,” I say, my voice heavy with irritation. “Remember that first sit-down with Willow and the senator? I gave you plenty of shots to be straight with me.”

Through her tears, she bites back with sarcasm. “Right. Just spill my guts to Connor Quinn. ‘Hey, I snagged your keys for a quick scam. Cool, yeah?’”

“If you had been honest, things might’ve gone differently. But you never gave me that chance, did you?”

She breaks down, covering her face, her words barely audible through her sobs. “I’m so screwed. They’ll come after me . . . after Grace . . . my mom . . .”