Ella
“What!” Sinclair roars through the phone receiver, his deep voice full of such rage and aggression that it makes me flinch. I’ve just told him about every horrible moment of my conversation with my former employer – though now it’s probably more accurate to think of her as my blackmailer.
I’ll have to change her contact information in my phone to reflect her new title – I can even assign her an ominous ringtone. I fight down the urge to laugh at this insane thought, wondering why my brain always twists the darkest moments of my life into humor. There is nothing funny about this situation.
“I don’t know what to do.” I whimper. “I don’t care what she says about me–” I’m interrupted by a low snarl, Sinclair’s wolf’s wordless insistence that he cares even if I don’t. “but if she sell
