Impulse (Billionaire Secrets 5)
this film to work,” Theo replied. “You’re an important part of the story Heather. And so are Simon’s parents, especially his dad. If we can include Heather and your father in this documentary, Simon, we could take this film to some pretty prestigious film festivals before it even airs. Something like this has the potential to win major awards if we do this right.”
“I couldn’t care less about awards, but if you really believe this will help Dover then I’m willing to stop giving you such a hard time,” Simon finally said.
“That’s all I’m asking for,” Theo said. “A chance to prove that this is going to be a good partnership. Our first chance to test this out is at next week’s dinner.”
Simon snorted. “I don’t know how dramatic one of the board’s dull parties is going to be.”
Theo leaned forward, dropping his voice conspiratorially. “Oh, I think we’re going to see a hell of a lot of drama.”
WORK THE NEXT DAY WAS so hectic that Heather barely had time to wolf down a quick lunch. After printing out some mock production notes that Theo had sent her, she headed into Simon’s office to go over their plan of action for next week’s dinner since the documentary crew was gearing up to shoot some footage.
She took a seat and glanced over to find him typing away on his laptop. “Dover’s official social media accounts will be uploading photos of the dinner. I think we could do the same and upload some good shots onto your individual social media accounts.”
He abruptly stopped his typing. “What social media accounts?”
“You’ve got social media accounts that are tied to Dover,” she reminded him with a frown. “Simon, I’m pretty sure we went over this right after I started working with you again.”
“Uh...” Simon paused to mull things over. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory here.”
An irritated breath forced out of her lungs. It was so like him to totally forget anything that he deemed trivial. Simon might have a great memory for certain details, but only if he thought those details mattered. Social media was an effective part of any media relations campaign. Too bad Simon didn’t seem to care about that.
She threw back her shoulders, steeling herself for his usual attempts at shirking his media responsibilities. “I’ve been managing your accounts. Usually I’ve kept things pretty safe with quotes or Dover news, but this is our chance to make things more personal.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Do people actually pay attention to my social media presence?”
“Yeah, they do.”
He buried his head in his hands with a loud groan. “Don’t tell me it’s a repeat of those fawning blog posts.”
“Well... a lot of it is people sending you heart-eye emojis, anti-capitalistic rants, and people calling you a jerk for sleeping with your assistant.” Her face heated. “Or people asking if you’ve stopped seeing me so they can date me.” She grabbed her phone and went over to his desk to show him.
With her fingers scrolling through the replies on one of his accounts, she searched for some comments. Her heart froze when she skimmed through the most recent comments.
“Something wrong?” He must have noticed a change in her expression.
“This is bad.” As she scrolled even more desperately, a cold sweat slipped down her spine. Her mouth went dry as she took in each comment, each one more sickening than the last. “I-I think we need to call security.”
“Show me the phone, Heather.”
Hands shaking she did as he commanded, holding up her phone for him to see why they were going to need security.
Chapter 9
He swore under his breath. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Simon had always avoided social media because he absolutely could not stand it, but these comments were downright chilling.
Hundreds of comments threatening Dover Inc., him and, worst of all, his father. Some of the replies were to a comment that had a grainy photo of him and his father walking out of Dover. Probably from the day his father had visited to take a company tour. Dover’s security had gotten good at handling the media, but not regular people with camera phones.
“Gonna gut your daddy like a fish. Lol.”
“Got some cell phone footage of this corporate hack heading out of Dover HQ with his dad. Who wants to bet he’s has to pay his old man just to keep him around? What a loser.”
“His father never loved him so now he’s paying him to stay. Maybe if we jumped his dad we’d get some money out of the old geezer.”
“I say we kidnap his old man and squeeze this capitalist douche for cash. Eat the rich!”
“Diesel faked that hacking. No way was that real, but they tossed Everett Eastman under the bus. Teach Diesel a lesson and rough up his dad. #justiceforeverett”
Simon’s eyes landed on a notification message and opened the private messages. Hundreds of them. Worse than anything in the public comments. Graphic, manipulated photos and footage with images of his father superimposed on to them, complete with violent imagery and horrifying death threats against his father. Each user describing in stark detail how they planned on killing his father. Looking at the images was like having a knife driven into his gut.