Sharon Sims stepped into her apartment that evening, kicking off her heels as she let out a sigh. Her encounter with Bruce had shaken her more than she cared to admit. The man was sharp, far sharper than she had anticipated. If she wasn’t careful, her entire plan could unravel before it even began.
She tossed her bag onto the couch and poured herself a glass of wine. Sitting by the window, she stared at the city lights, her mind racing.
"He knows something," she muttered to herself, swirling the wine in her glass. "But how much?"
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling her out of her thoughts. She reached for it, her breath catching when she saw the name on the screen.
Russell Harper.
Sharon hesitated for a moment before answering. "Russell," she said, her voice calm.
"Sharon,"
