Page 82 of Sticky Fingers

He laughs. “Yes, for real. It’s been a long haul, but you can’t expect things like this to just happen overnight. You are now officially and completely trackable.”

Fuck. I’m not sure exactly how to feel about that. It’s kind of scary.

Some of my misgivings must show on my face.

Standing, he clasps my shoulder. “Relax, Malcolm. This is a good thing. You’re fine and not doing a thing wrong.”

So he says. It’s scary to feel so exposed after all these years.

“It’ll be worth it. You’ll sleep better. Let me go get your copies all together and you can head out. Ten minutes.”

Yeah, right. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that over the last week and a half.

Ryan leaves the board room, and I settle back on my chair and start checking my phone.

I know he’s right. But sleeping well isn’t what got me this far.

It’s Sonia. I miss her.

All or nothing.

I straighten my tie before taking a hard look at my hair again.

Two days ago, I did all the little bullshit things, like getting my hair cut and cleaning up around the house to try and fucking relax. Still, I had a hard time doing it.

See, yesterday was a big fucking day. And it all comes together today.

I’m waiting for a news story to pop up.

I did a major sit-down with the New York Daily Journal yesterday. With Sarah Hesh. She’s run a lot of bad press on me over the years. Figured I was a piece of shit.

Then I told her everything.

What I had been doing to become legitimate. Within reason of course. I mean, I didn’t incriminate myself or anything.

But I even explained the little extra step I took to make every single thing aboveboard.

Because she hates me so much is why I reached out to her to run this. If I could win her over, that’ll have been it. Sonia will have to know that I’ve done this for her.

And if she doesn’t come to talk to me over the weekend, then next week I will be going after her.

I just can’t take any more of this. I’m known for getting what I want, and I’m so fucking done after these past few weeks.

My life is empty without her.

I miss her laugh and her smile. Of course, I miss her tight little body. I want to bounce her on my cock and fuck her so hard she can barely scream for lack of air.

But I miss her eyes. Those eyes that captivated me the first time I saw her.

Those eyes that sparkle when she tries to be mischievous.

Those eyes that glisten when we cuddle next to the fire, eating strawberries and sipping champagne.

Those eyes that are so filled with love.

So filled with life.

Without them, my eyes are dead.