The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 232

Petty sat quietly in a private room at the tea house, fighting to keep her nerves and anger from showing. With her résumé and skills, there was no way she should have been rejected for the position. She’d been so sure of her spot at Everell that she’d even started learning self-defense and shooting from Malcom, just to be prepared.

But today, when she checked the list, her name was missing. She called Nash out to meet, and just one question told her everything: it was Franco’s doing.

That left Petty stuck somewhere between fury and despair. What exactly did Franco want from her? Also, how did he even know she’d applied for the overseas correspondent job? She’d never told him. He never mentioned it either. Was he keeping tabs on her this whole time? Lurking in the shadows until the last minute, just to crush her hopes?

Memories of that afternoon on Misty Vale Boulevard came rushing back, the day Laura tried to kill herself, just before Franco got in the car. His words still clung to her, every syllable echoing inside her head:

“Petty, listen to me. You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying with me, for the rest of your life.”

“Unless I die.”

Petty drained her cup of tea in one gulp. Was Franco really planning to trap her in Cabinda forever, forcing her to live all her years wrapped up in this cycle of hatred?

If this had happened before, she would’ve called Franco on the spot and confronted him. Now, she just couldn’t see the point. Nothing would change.

Nash seemed to realize how upset she was. “If it didn’t work out this time, you can always try again later,” he said quietly, trying to comfort her.

But Petty was tired of waiting. If Everell was off the table, she’d just quit her job and start from scratch abroad. Her grandmother was gone, and Cabinda wasn’t really home anymore. All she had left were Hans, her best friend, and Amy. No matter where she ended up, as long as they could stay in touch, she’d be fine.

Nash glanced at Petty and spoke into the phone, gentle and low. “I’ll come back and take care of it.”

Petty got in her car and pulled away, as usual flipping the news on. She’d barely registered the traffic lights when the anchor’s voice came through. “Yesterday afternoon, Felton, chairman of the Byron Group, was investigated for regulatory violations on a construction project…”

Her fingers froze on the steering wheel. Felton… he was one of the three most powerful family heads in Cabinda, well known for playing by the rules, never even a whisper of scandal around him. In all her years as a reporter, she’d never heard a single bad thing about the man.

And no one ever dared move against one of the top three family heads — unless it was something to do with her. After all, Felton had once hired people to have her kidnapped and dumped at the border.