ark, until the gray light of dawn seeped thro
table. It was cold. She took a sip, trying to q
A push notification fro
ly, a high-resolution photograph of Jordon a
, possessive gesture. The headline screamed: JOR
ame coat he'd been wearing last nigh
hoto. She saw the woman's wrist, and on it
e's br
pped from her numb fingers, lan
izing her stomach. She doubled over, pre
She picked up the phone, her movements jerk
eping in her ear was a form of torture,
wasn't Jordon's deep, familiar vo
h sleep. In the background, Ciara could hear
t through Ciara. "Where is Jordon?" she
ordon was up with me all night. He just fe
d. "Put him on the phone, Jasmine," she sna
ssive. I was just so scared after my... episode. Jordon was the on
heard Jordon's muffled
oed, her voice dropping to an in
ne wen
A violent wave of nausea hit her,
ame up. Hot, silent tears streamed down
She looked up, meeting her own reflection in the mirror.
s humiliating, contractual marriage of convenience,
d, replaced by a cold, sharp-edged fury. She straigh
f soft, cashmere dresses and sensible flats that screamed 'de
like armor. She slipped on a pair
lasses, hiding the evidence of her te
b report from her coat pocket, and tucked i
home system. "Have the car ready," she commanded, he
ard the elevator, her heels clicking with purpose on th
the back of th
r eyes fixed straight ahead.
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