The CEO's Secret Affair

utside the dimly lit bar in downtown Manhattan, he was about to break his own rule. Inside, sitting at the far end of the bar, was Elena Carter. He had done his homework. El

n Sinclair. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Adrian signaled to the bartender. "Whiskey. Neat." Then he turned his attention back to her. "You've been asking questions about my company." She took a sip of her drink, her green eyes assessing him. "I'm a journalist. It's my job to ask questions." "Then let me ask you one." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "What exactly are you hoping to find?" Elena tilted her head, pretending to think. "Oh, I don't know. A little fraud, a little corporate corruption. Maybe even a scandal or two." Adrian chuckled, shaking his head. "You're not subtle." "I don't need to be," she replied. "People like you aren't used to being questioned. But eventually, someone always slips up." Adrian studied her. There was something about the way she spoke-confident, sharp, but not reckless. She was good at what s