Two hours later, he texted her.
She’d blocked his number before, but he’d just threatened someone to get her to unblock him.
[What are you doing? Want to go out for a drink?]
Honestly, everyone knew what “having a drink” meant, especially between two people who’d already slept together.
Kaitlyn was fresh out of the shower, towel in hand, drying her hair. She’d just checked in with Clara’s younger brother and was relieved to hear Clara was fine. The new artist could wait; the Bradford Group wasn’t hurting for money anymore.
When she saw Jackson’s message, she frowned, then deliberately messed up her bedsheets, making it look like she’d just been with someone.
She snapped a photo and sent it back.
[Just finished with my husband. Something you need?]
Jackson’s face turned stormy.
No woman had ever gotten the better of him like this before, and it made him grit his teeth. He tossed his phone aside, feeling oddly restless.
But after a moment, he picked it back up and made a call.
*
The next morning, bright and early, Kaitlyn went to the Dawson family’s old estate. The old man had asked to see her.
She entered Alan’s room quietly, immediately noticing how pale he looked. She hurried over. “Carter, are you feeling alright?”
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