Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I know. I've known it all along. That's why I tried to fight this feeling. That's why I tried not to hope. But I failed. Terribly.
I bury my face in my hands.
I've been naive, so naive. And I thought I was smart.
If you're smart, and I know you are, you know what to do.
Ryker's words echo inside my head. As bitter and painful as they are, I swallow them and wipe my tears away.
Because he's right.
I am smart. I do know what to do. And I am going to do it. I'm going to stop this madness right now, for Ethan's sake, mine and everyone's, before it's too late.
Enough messing around.
Chapter Twelve
Ethan
This is a fucking mess.
I slam the lid of my laptop shut and lean back on the couch. Then I rub my temples as I contemplate the current situation.
The acquisition of Odermatt Corp. is on hold, thanks to that fucking employee who disappeared with the company's program files, including Simone Odermatt's original code. No one knows where he is or what he's planning to do with the files. We don't even know if he did this all on his own or if he's working with someone, possibly another company. If it's the latter, we're screwed. There won't be any point in continuing with the acquisition. Odermatt Corp. might even shut down while another company rises because of their hard work. If that company turns out to be one of the handful that have been trying to bring down Hawthorne Holdings for the past several years - and I know some of them were interested in Odermatt Corp., too - the problem will be even bigger.
One of our major stakeholders, an elderly fellow named Reuben, called just to chew my head off about that, though I don't even know how he learned about what happened. For all I know, he has someone spying on me here in Zurich. Paranoid old man. If so, then he might already know about me and Stella. Is that why he's blaming me for all this? Because he thinks I was too preoccupied with other affairs to keep it from happening? How the hell was I supposed to know one of Odermatt's employees wasn't right in the head?
Even so, I've done everything I can to make things right. I've already commissioned my own investigative team to track down that prick. I've already called in favors. I have people keeping an eye on those other companies. Thank goodness this happened in Switzerland so I don't have to deal with a media circus, too, though I still have someone watching the internet. If anyone on the web mentions Odermatt, I'll know. What else am I supposed to do? What else can I do?
Nothing. That's the thing. I've done all I can. There's nothing left to do now except to wait. And hope that another company isn't making use of those files right now to accomplish what I've been planning for the past several months, hope that this acquisition isn't going to blow up in my face.
Still, I can't wait forever. I'm scheduled to go back the day after tomorrow, and I will, no matter what. If that thief is found with the files, the acquisition process will continue and I'll go back to my office triumphant, ready to take the company a step further as soon as everything becomes official. If not, I'll have to spend the next few weeks locked up in my office dealing with the fallout and racking my brains to come up with a plan to somehow still keep the company not just afloat but at the top of the game. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it.
I pour myself another glass of Scotch - I've lost count of how many I've had - and gulp it down. The bitter alcohol blazes down my throat and sends my head buzzing. I close my eyes. If only it could make me forget this hell I'm going through, even for just a moment.
Just then, I hear a knock on the door. I almost say "Come in" but remember I'm in a hotel room and I'm the only one with the key. Unless Asher borrowed one from the receptionist again, in which case he wouldn't knock.
I put my glass down and walk to the door. Who knows? It might be Simone Odermatt himself, come to bring me news or some plan to save both our companies.
As soon as I open the door, I see it isn't. It's Stella in a knitted white dress, half her hair pulled back and the rest loose behind her shoulders. I see my folded scarf in her hands. I realize I haven't seen her for nearly a whole day.
I'm seized with an urge to wrap my arms around her so I can feel hers around me. Maybe she can do what the Scotch can't. But she clears her throat.