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I used to think he was the one person in the world I could trust implicitly.
That all changed the day his mistress, Sienna Voss, blocked my car with a triumphant smirk. Stroking her baby bump, she hit play on a voice recorder. "Stan, who do you prefer—me, or that old witch?"
Then came the voice I knew better than my own. "That spinster can never compare to you. You know what? The thing I've hated most about her is her arrogance."
I just smiled. Jasper had had a smooth sailing for so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to grovel at my feet.
The very next day, I had the dead, bloody fetus boxed up and delivered straight to his desk. Eyes bloodshot, he pulled a gun and pressed the barrel right to the center of my forehead. He dragged my name out, slow and cold. " Nancy Carter!"
I took a sip of my coffee, completely unfazed. "It seems you've forgotten exactly what I'm capable of."
