“Miss Paquin, a fair warning, I have no intentions of playing nice or making the next thirty days easy for you. Take the money, forge the data, and save us both the headache and time.” I shot him a wry smile. “Mr. Sinclair, a fair warning, I’m sick of your shit and half the reason I agreed to do this was to make your life as miserable as you’ve made ours over the last eight months. You don’t scare me.” “That’s what this is about? You’re turning down twenty million dollars for a bit of revenge? A little short-sighted, wouldn’t you agree?” He leaned down an inch when he said the word “short.”
