I was in my living room that morning, sipping coffee and reviewing some documents, when I spotted Amanda’s car pulling up through the window. My pulse quickened. I quickly composed myself and waited, eyes fixed on the door, for her to bring in the bastard who had tried to kill Payton and kept us apart for weeks.
The door swung open. Two burly men dragged a woman inside, her face covered with a black cloth. They shoved her roughly to the floor as Amanda strode in confidently, stopping right in front of me.
“Hello, darling,” she purred, reaching up to touch my face. I caught her wrist mid-air.
“What the hell is going on?” I demanded. “Who is she?”
Amanda smirked. “Didn’t you say you were looking for the person who tried to kill your beloved? Well… here she is.” She pointed at the kneelin
