I hung up on Sarah mid-scream, which she was going to make me pay for later, but right now I had bigger problems than my best friend's blood pressure.
Stolen. My idea. The one I stayed up three nights straight polishing until my eyes crossed. The one I cried actual, undignified tears over at that award ceremony I'd begged Sarah to attend in my place, and she'd refused, the traitor.
Was Victor nuts? Just because he sat there with me while I was sorting it out, handed me a cup of coffee here and there, did that suddenly make it his project now? By that logic my landlord built it too, since he at least kept the lights on.
"Where are you going?" Adrian asked, watching me snatch my jacket off the chair.
"To kill that bastard. How dare he try to claim what's mine. And so much for having the
