Ruined By My Brother's Best Friend (by Silverwriter) novel Chapter 148

I didn’t even know why I was worried… But I was. And I also felt a lot of guilt. After Sierra told me Henry’s car had been sex on fire, I didn’t believe her and frantically searched the internet myself. To my horror, there were indeed photos of his Lamborghini, the same Lamborghini he had picked me up in, burnt almost beyond recognition.

I’d called him, trying to figure out if he was okay, but the call didn’t go through. I’d barely slept a wink last night, and now, even at work, I couldn’t focus.

“Why would someone want to kill him?” Sierra asked, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

I paused in the middle of the room and turned to face her slowly. “Do you think someone was trying to kill him?”

I hadn’t thought about that.

Sierra scoffed. “Doesn’t the state of the car look suspicious to you? It was definitely an attempted murder.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin. “I assumed it was just an accident… Oh my God.”

I rubbed my palms over my hands. “If I followed him home… I would have been in that car…”

“Don’t think about that,” Sierra warned, panic creeping into her voice. “Thankfully, nothing happened to you… I don’t want to think about the possibility of… no! Let’s drop this conversation.”

“But I can’t! I feel guilty,” I rasped, tears welling in my eyes.

Sierra walked to me and wrapped her arms around me. “Why are you feeling guilty?”

“He… this wouldn’t have happened if he just stayed home and didn’t take me out on a date. If he was home…”

“No. You’re overthinking this. There is no need to blame yourself,” Sierra said, patting my head gently. “If my suspicions are right and it was planned, it would have still happened either way. It had nothing to do with you. If he wasn’t taking you on a date, he would still take his car out.”

I breathed out, biting my bottom lip. Her words didn’t rid me of the guilt, but they definitely comforted me a little bit.

My phone rang out, making me jerk in surprise.

“Shit,” Sierra said, pulling away and clutching her chest. “Your phone is loud as hell.”

I giggled lightly and moved to grab it from my desk. “I almost got a heart attack.”

“That makes two of us,” she said, shaking her head.

I glanced at my phone screen. There was no caller ID. Í usually ignored such calls, but I shrugged and swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

1