Page 157 of Sinclair Duet
Johnathon turned up the volume and handed me his phone.
There was Darius, bruised face and all, standing in front of the fountain at Sinclair Corporate. Taking the phone in hand, I rushed across the room to the windows. There he was, standing on the pavers.
Red seeped into my vision as I turned my attention to the small screen in my hand.
“…address the rumors about what’s happening at Sinclair Pharmaceuticals. It’s true, my father, Derek Sinclair, the chairman of our board, suffered a health setback. While I’d willingly accept your thoughts and prayers, the reality is that my family—I use that term loosely—has chosen this time to further oust me from the company my father successfully ran for decades.”
The stream was viral. And comments were adding up exponentially. From a quick scan, it seemed most were calling out Darius for being a whiny poor little rich man. However, there were also comments in support of his plight.
I turned to Johnathon. “Call security and get him off the property.”
“Sir, do you think that’s something you want live streamed?”
“Fuck, how long can he keep talking?”
“There’s no limit on Twitter.”
I was the CEO and a decision needed to be made. “Have him removed from the property. I’ll call Dani.” Currently, she was the chairwoman of the executive board.
Johnathon left as I called my sister on my cell phone. As soon as she answered, I asked, “Have you heard? Darius is airing family laundry on Twitter as we speak. He’s live streaming from in front of this building.”
“Fucking dick move,” she mumbled. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve sent security to remove him from the property.”
“I have an idea. Meet me in ten minutes in the press room on one.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Our brother is mentally unstable. It’s time the world is aware.”
Gabriella
“What is happening?” I asked Johnathon as I slipped into the back of the Sinclair press room. The only warning I’d received was a text message from Damien telling me to hurry.
“Dr. Sinclair is about to address our shareholders and customers.”
My brow furrowed. “Was this planned?”
Johnathon handed me his phone. The Twitter app was pulled up with a video paused.
My eyes widened. “Shit, is that Darius?”
Johnathon nodded. “You can watch it. The filming ends when Sinclair security and IMPD physically remove him from the property.”
My heart sank. “Shit, this is bad. What did he say?”
We were speaking low as Damien and Dani were talking to members of the press and the cameras were being set up. If this was going to be like press releases from when I worked here, thebroadcast would simultaneously run on multiple mediums and hopefully be picked up by larger news organizations.
“He rambled,” Johnathon said. “Talked about Mr. Derek Sinclair.”
I sucked my lower lip between my teeth. Marsha had been direct in not wanting personal information leaked. The public already knew more than she wanted them to know.
“His marriage?” I asked.
“I didn’t hear that,” he said. “I haven’t listened to the entire rant.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stood against the back wall. Finally, Damien looked up, his navy gaze meeting mine. The lines of worry and concern were again around his eyes. His jaw was clenched, and his neck strained.