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Laughter echoed in the sterile hospital hallway as the mistress viciously shoved the pregnant wife to the floor, backed by the cheating husband’s approving nod. Their arrogant smiles froze instantly when heavy footsteps thundered down the hall and a terrifying voice barked, “Grab them.” As the director knelt beside the crying woman, he looked up at the trembling husband and whispered…

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in a voice devoid of anything resembling a soul, “Do not make a scene, Tessa.”

I lifted my gaze from the polished marble.

Bennett stood illuminated by the clinical overhead lights, a portrait of bespoke perfection in his charcoal-gray Brioni suit. His dark hair was immaculately styled, his posture rigid, the timepiece on his wrist holding more liquid continue reading …

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