Page 110 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“But…”

“Keeping your relationship from me is one thing but keeping secrets about my own…” Cora shook her head.

Verity deserved this. It had been weeks since Toby dumped her; she had every opportunity to tell Cora the truth, but she hadn’t. She didn’t want the awkward conversation. She wanted to believe there was no point and Cora didn’t need to know, but that wasn’t her choice to make.

Collecting her bag and donning her coat, Verity tried one last time.

“Cora, I didn’t know for long and I wanted to tell you…”

“Then you should have told me. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

The words were a knife to her heart. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Just go.”

Verity nodded. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled one last time before walking home.

Chapter Thirty

The drumming of Theo’s fingers on the desk matched Day-Commissioner Talbot’s racing heart as he glowered at the trembling human.

“You’re gonna have to help me understand this,” he near snarled, not bothering to tamp down his growl. “If you didn’t talk to this reporter, then why is she quoting you?”

“I don’t know, sir,” he whimpered. “I never said anything about curfews, I swear.”

“She didn’t pluck it out of thin fucking air!”

“Sir, I…”

Theo gave the human the dignity, or perhaps indignity, of averting his eyes when Talbot started wiping tears from his cheeks. After reading the article that evening, he’d had to wait hours before Talbot deigned to answer his summons. In that time his rage had only grown.

Curfews, in his city and without his permission? Not a chance.

“Well, I suggest you find out where she got the idea,” he said.

“Right, sir. I’ll… err…”

“Get the fuck out, Talbot.” If Theo had to look at the pathetic excuse for a commissioner a moment longer, he might just punch him.

Leaning on the desk, head in his hands, he listened to the door open and close. He breathed deep, willing himself to stay calm, composed. Losing it now would help no one. Deep, shaking breath, in through the nose and…

“Fuck!” He roared kicking back from the desk and away from Verity’s lingering scent.

The desk stank of her, of what they’d done. What he’d done to her. Her little lace thong still sat in his top drawer. He’d opened it without thinking and was bombarded with the scent of lust trapped within. He needed to get rid of it but didn’t know how.

“Sir?” Stella’s voice rang over the intercom.

“Not now,” he snapped, cutting the line and pacing.

Back and forth he walked, treading the threadbare path he always walked when he needed to think. He had to talk to Verity. Had to. He couldn’t give a fuck if she asked not to be contacted. She’d wanted it. No. He couldn’t think like that. That was victim blaming. But she asked. She…

“Sir?” Stella poked her head around the door, sounding uncharacteristically timid. “I’m sorry, but your brother’s on the line. He says it’s important.”

Theo rolled his eyes. What could be more important than his brooding?

“Fine,” he snapped. “Stella, find me the number for Corner Cafe. The owners called Cora.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.