The sharp, insistent beep of the dial tone echoed in the sudden silence of the office, each tone a tiny, percussive strike against Michael’s composure. He stared at the phone in his hand—her phone—his knuckles white around the sleek device. The handsome planes of his face hardened into a mask of stormy displeasure, a dark, menacing aura radiating from him.

When Linsy re-entered the office, she found him in this state, her phone clutched in his grip like a piece of evidence. Her heart ...