Croft POV
The instructions with my head of security had just concluded, the final, coldly efficient instruction given to ensure Jennifer’s safety, when my private line chimed again. Jennifer’s name appeared. A different kind of urgency.
I answered. Before I could speak, her voice came, not in its usual measured tones, but frayed and raw.
“Croft… I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”
“What has happened?” I said.
“The whispers. The stares. It’s everywhere. I went to the gallery today, and a donor looked at me like I was something he’d stepped in. My phone… it’s messages from ‘friends’ asking if it’s true I trapped you. I’m not a person to them anymore. I’m a scandal. A gold-digger. I’m just… so tired of the humiliation.” She said.
“Where are you?” My voice was calm, a direct contrast to
