Page 143 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

That is the explanation I have been giving myself for almost a week.

A stomach bug.

Jet lag.

Stress.

Anything that explains why I have spent the last several mornings nauseated, why food suddenly smells wrong, and why I have already made three trips to the bathroom since arriving at the office.

Grace studies me another second before returning to the subject.

“I need the rest of your notes.”

“No.”

The word comes out more firmly than I intend.

Her face changes.

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

“Sophie, those notes were gathered on assignment.”

“I know who owns the assignment.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“Because context matters.”

Grace exhales sharply.

“You're a journalist.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I stare at her.

She continues before I can respond.

“Because right now you're acting like someone's personal advocate instead of the person I sent to report the story.”

Heat moves up my neck.

“That's not what I'm doing.”

“Then tell me what the issue is.”

I close the laptop halfway.

“The issue is that the people I interviewed gave me access for one kind of story. Publishing those conversations now, while they're under active investigation, turns them into something else.”

Grace's gaze sharpens.

“Julian Blackwell knew he was talking to a journalist.”