Chapter

Brittany's pov

After two days Jackson had called me to be in his office at six in the evening.

His office was like I'd expected—dark wood panels, the leather chairs, the smell of old money and older secrets.

He sat opposite sides from me, then he slid a folder across his desk with the proud look that he had done well in his investigations.

"You'd want to see this Ms Brittany," he said, with that private-investigator smugness clear in his voice.

My fingers touched the folder ...