"What the hell is this?"
The phrase came out on its own, aloud. So loudly that the door opened again.
"Is something wrong, ma'am?"
It was my assistant. I immediately shook my head.
"No."
My voice came out more strained than I expected.
"Leave me alone, please."
The woman hesitated, but finally nodded.
"As you wish, Mrs. Sinclair."
The door closed again, and I turned my gaze back to the box, feeling a strange weight on my chest.
Slowly, I reached in and pulled out the first document. It was a newspaper clipping…
"But what…"
Then another, and another, and another; photographs, articles, magazines, reports.
All related to Ethan, his company, business events… meetings, galas, interviews.
My heart began to race. I kept looking through the contents: more photos, more events... more
