Arielle
Oh f**k. s**t. Damn.
I blinked at the screen, disappointment sinking through me like cold water.
“What home is he talking about?” Emris asked.
I couldn’t answer. My mind was still trying to process the worst possible text arriving at the worst possible moment.
“Darius,” he said again, slower this time. “As in Rothwell Darius?”
My throat tightened. I should’ve taken my phone with me to the restroom.
“The same guy, powerful enough to get his hands on your project? Your files? Your work?”
My head snapped toward him. How did he know about that?
“What do you mean?”
His expression hardened. “I made my findings, and I heard he was always coming there.”
Oh dear. I sat down slowly, as if the chair might collapse beneath me.
“It’s not what you think,” I said weakly. “Things
