Jackson’s POV
I stared at the photos scattered across my desk, my hands trembling as I tried to process what I was seeing. What the hell is this? The images seemed to blur in front of me—intimate, vulnerable shots of Bella that could only have been taken by someone she trusted, someone close enough to capture her in unguarded moments.
My phone blared in my pocket, the sudden sound making me jump. I fumbled for it, my fingers unsteady.
"Hello, Jackson Ivory." The voice from the other end of the line was gruff, with a hint of an Aussie accent.
"Who is this?" My voice came out hoarse.
“Did you get the gift I left for you?”
Rage exploded in my chest. "What the f**k are you playing at?" I shouted, my fist clenching around the phone.
"Calm down, Ivory." The casual tone made my blood boil
