Emily Madrigo
“Jax, this is not the time,” Emily hissed into the phone, keeping her voice low as she slipped another hand into the inner pocket of Tom’s suit jacket.
The fabric still carried the faint scent of his cologne, expensive and commanding, the same one that used to make her stomach flutter before everything turned sour.
She was alone in the master bedroom, the door firmly locked, while Tom was halfway across the city attending yet another endless meeting.
Her fingers brushed against a crisp fold of bills, and she quickly counted them under her breath. Not enough. Never enough lately.
On the other end of the line, Jax’s lazy drawl carried that familiar mix of charm and greed.
“Come on, baby. I’m good for it. Just another five grand and I’ll disappear for a while. You know
