The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart - Page 53

I raise my brows, unable to hide the surprise. Does he know about the shifters?

“That’s confidential,” I tell him sternly.

He shoots me an accusing look. “Don’t tell me you’re going to help them bury this. All they care about is money.”

“What are you talking about, Tim? I’m here to do a job, and that’s it. If you’re asking for my help in bringing a private firm down, you’re talking to the wrong person. Talk to someone else.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to see it’s all dirty and corrupted,” he says. “Someone should do something.”

“Go back to your post and let us deal with it,” I reply, trying to maintain my cool. “This is my department, and if you want to keep your job, you’ll do what I tell you to. If you don’t like it, get the fuck out. God knows I have too much on my plate already to be dealing with your shit too.”

He shakes his head. “Fine. But don’t think this conversation is over.”

Yeah.

Fuck him.

Seriously.

He leaves, slamming the door on his way out, and I curse under my breath.

Fucking Tim! Always with the drama.

Despite his insistence that we can be just friends, his behavior now suggests otherwise. I just wish he would get over it. He’s the one who cheated on me, so he should suck it up and move on. I certainly did.

My cheeks flush at the unexpected thought of Graham. The flush is a mix of anger and something else.

I shake my head.

I’m no one’s toy, dammit. I really shouldn’t let any alpha asshole put me in the corner just like that.

How dare he go through my computer?

It’s unforgivable.

I let him not only in my home but also in my bed. Can’t he see just how much I opened myself up to him?

I shake my head and sigh.

As I wait for my computer to turn on, a gentle knock on the door calls my attention. Makayla waves at me through the glass. I nod my head for her to enter.

She comes in all giggly and energetic. Her jean suit and shirt could belong to a stylishly dressed grandmother, but Makayla doesn’t care. She’s in the business of coding, not fashion. To her, a T-shirt is a T-shirt.

“Good morning, Boss,” she chirps. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

I exhale loudly. “Not exactly.”

“Why?” she asks and sits in the chair opposite of me. She leans forward as if wanting to know more.

“Is something wrong?” I ask instead, ignoring her question.

“So…you know Tim?” she begins awkwardly. “He passed by my desk and told me something, but I don’t know whether I should take him seriously. You know that I’m trying to keep myself away from the drama and avoid listening to rumors, but he was just so damn close to my desk when he said it. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“What did he say?” I ask cautiously, fearing the worst.

“I’m sure it’s only a rumor,” she says, looking uncomfortable, which makes me even more curious.

“Makayla,” I warn. “Just spit it out.”