Sinclair's POV.Let's establish the fact that the one room I hated in the whole of Hale Corp is the mother fucking boardroom. Why? Because I hated every member of the goddamn board. Their thinking level was just in line with their age. Dead brain cells everywhere. You see, the Hale Corp's boardroom was designed mainly for precision. Clean lines, sleek marble and sharp acoustics that have been engineered to make every word sharper. Today, however, was worse than just sharp. No. It was like a blade being pinned on my damn throat. "What makes you think that you can drag us into your bedroom scandal?"I didn't know who spoke, and honestly, I was too drained to even care. "The stock prices dipped over six percent overnight, Sinclair. Six whole percent. That's a quarter billion dollars hit, and it's all because you couldn't keep your zipper up."I sleep one night — let's get things straight here. I get my complete 8-hour sleep for one night, and I wake up to this chaos? Remind me to ne

April had fallen asleep about an hour later. Her breathing evened out as her lips slightly parted, a visible crease between her eyes despite her unconsciousness. The crease made me uncomfortable. It felt like her body didn't know how to relax. Not exactly. More like even in sleep, some part of her remained braced for a blow. Just what had she had to face?Sitting at the edge of the bed, I kept my eyes pinned on her as I watched her in the dim light of the bedside lamp. She looked a lot smaller under my thick quilt.My fingers itched to take the strap behind my ear off. The mask felt so suffocatingly hot and stifling tonight. Felt like a cage that I'd been wearing for so long, I didn't remember how it felt to be without it anymore. I could just take it off for a minute or two, right? She was sleeping after all, so no one would see anyway. But then, what if she woke up and saw me?What if she turned over and her eyes blinked open, letting her see the scraps that were left of me?T

April's POV.Stretching lazily across the floor, the sun pierced through the window without a care in the world. I blinked against the warmth that slid over my cheek and the sharp contrast of white curtains that fluttered in the breeze. It took me a second to recall where I was. Right. I wasn't in Boss Sinclair's room anymore. I was back in the guest room. I sighed aloud, turning on my side to find the clock on the nightstand. 8:17 AM. Great. Another day to stay home with nothing to do. I touched my head to see if it still hurt. I still had about 3 more days to rest before going back to work. 3. Whole. Days. Tell me another form of torture that's worse than this. I looked at the door, groaning. It was only a matter of time before he walked in, trying to get me to take those annoying pills. I just wish I could sleep for as long as I wanted. Digest the weird combination of antibiotics and heartache....Okay, maybe not heartache. But definitely depression. And anxiety. And PTSD

Sinclair's POV They said the city never slept, but it definitely could decay. Leaning back in the leather seat of my Aston Martin, I groaned tiredly. I ached all over. My wrists were hurting, my neck felt stiff, and the suit jacket that I'd somehow managed to put on all day was now sticking to me like a second skin due to how wet it looked. The media was still making a frenzy over the small reveal of mine, and I also dropped some info anonymously, letting the nation know that Alicia wasn't in any fucked up coma. Bitch was trying to avoid the wrath of the city, and they were letting her succeed. I felt mad for a lot of reasons and at a lot of people. Don't even get me started on how confused I am sometimes on where to start from. My car's wipers groaned to life as they ran splattered against my windshield with each droplet sounding like a reminder that nothing, even during large storms, came without dropping a warning. God, how much I hated the smell of this city

Sinclair's POV Thursdays were supposed to be warzones, right? Granted. But today? Today was a freaking napalm and shrapnel. Moving through the halls of the Hale HQ like a man trying to dodge live fire, boardroom to analytics, a fireside with the marketing director, I yelled "I'll call you back" as I cut through two departments that just keep pace with the clock. People always knew to get the fuck out of my way. Especially when I had a loosened fucking tie that early into the day. My phone buzzed for the hundredth time, and I pulled it out, bringing it to my ear, feeling so pissed. "WHAT IS IT?"God, I needed Quinn back. I was literally on the verge of going crazy. "Uh... chill? I've been calling to tell you that Mr Mori is on his way to the company. Right now."I stilled midstep. First, the person calling was Quinn? Second, how the hell is Mr Mori coming?He wasn't even supposed to be hear until next week. At this point, it was safe to nickname him the god of unholy timing. Bec