The Damaged (The Insiders Trilogy 2)

Kash had been steadily taking over his father’s shares, which my father had previously voted in his stead, and he was also taking over older companies that his mother had started with a similar arrangement. The owners had been waiting for Evelyn Colello’s son to step out of the shadows.

A low chuckle greeted me, and it washed over me, my entire body encased in warmth and flutters.

The flutters. I was still affected by just his voice.

“Shareholders can wait. Fitz said you’re heading inside. How are you feeling?”

I stopped on the sidewalk, adjusting my bag, and shut the door behind me. The air was warm, sunshine already promising to be high and heavy that day, and students of all ages roamed behind me, around me, cutting in front of the vehicle. More than a few were eyeing Fitz, who could be seen through the windshield.

It was an impressive vehicle, a black SUV, but it wasn’t anything more. I could be a normal student just getting dropped off by someone … but I was in the back and Fitz was in the front and I could feel their gazes switching to me, wondering who I was.

This wouldn’t have bothered me three months ago. Three months ago, I would’ve assumed I was getting the attention because my tech reputation had preceded me. I would’ve been trudging from the parking lot, with my own shitty little Corolla in the lot, and I would’ve been standing in line to get a parking permit so I wouldn’t get a ticket on my first day of classes.

But there was no recognition on any of their faces.

I breathed easier. “I’m feeling ridiculous, to be honest.”

Another low and baritone chuckle from Kash. “You got this. And you already met Busich and Goa. They’ll look out for you.”

I pressed my lips tight together.

I’d met them. I hadn’t wanted to meet them that way, though. Not in my father’s study, with my dad there, and knowing I was already getting special privileges because he was introducing me as Peter Francis’s daughter. Busich was the head of all the graduate programs and Goa was the head of my program’s department. Two individuals a normal graduate student might never have met, but not me. Another change.

All these changes.

My stomach clenched. My gaze wavered; everyone was starting to circle in on me.

Get ahold of yourself! I could hear Chrissy’s voice snapping at me, loaded with impatience and thinking this whole thing was ridiculous. Me, griping about all the “special” things that had happened to me and I knew would keep happening to me. I would’ve rolled eyes at myself three months ago, but—

“What if you dosed her too much?”

“Bitch…”

“Kidnapping and murder…”

I swallowed over a knot that was encased in acid and shoved that whole thing down my throat. That happened.

My hands were shaking, but I kept my voice firm. Goddamn, my voice wouldn’t give anything away.

“You’re right. I’ll be all good.”

Straighten up, Bailey.

I straightened.

Roll your shoulders back, girl.

I rolled my shoulders back.

Suck it in. Suck it up. And get going. You have a degree to conquer. You’re going to earn a master’s of science in computer information systems.

I sucked it in, sucked it up, and I was good to go. Hearing my mother’s voice smoothed it all away, and I was ready. I would be fine.

I changed tactics. “I love you.”

He was quiet for a moment. He wasn’t buying it, but he said it back, and I knew it was a pass. He’d deal with this tonight, and what “this” was, I wasn’t even sure myself. But I hung up with Kash.

I knew he had my back.

I knew he loved me.

Knowing that, feeling that, accepting that, I was ready to go.

TWO

I stepped inside, and there was a greeting line for me. No joke.

Or, well, that was an exaggeration, but Ms. Busich was there, wide smile, her dark hair swept up in a bun. Alongside her were Mr. Goa and two other faculty members and two students. I knew the faculty members because I did my research. One was my advisor, Ms. Wells, and the other was another professor in my studies, Mr. Dvantzi. The students, I didn’t know. I hadn’t researched them, which said how off my game was. Three months ago, I would’ve scoured everything I could find and I would’ve had a hard time not poking around for a list of upcoming first-year graduate students.

“Ms. Franci—”

I stopped Busich with a polite smile. “It’s Hayes. I’m still just Bailey Hayes.”

She paused, her eyebrows pinched together behind her glasses, then her face smoothed back out. Her smile returned. “Of course. Miss Hayes. Welcome.” She gestured to the students. “This is Hoda Mansour and Liam Smith. Both are students in your cohort.”

Hoda’s face was gorgeous. Big, dark eyes, smooth tan complexion, and lips that were so round they were almost an oval shape. Her hair was robust. It was the only word that came to mind, because there was a lot there. It was smooth and hanging just short of her shoulders, but the volume had me salivating. If she’d had a blowout that day, I wanted to know who her stylist was, and I wasn’t that type of girl. Chrissy, yes. My mother would’ve been all over her, exclaiming over her pedicure and cream-colored nails and the earrings that were hanging and sparkling from her ears. But it was the look in Hoda’s eyes that had me snapping to attention.