MEGAN
I OPENED the door to a huge man standing in front of me. He looked like he just came from a war in the desert with strong eye contact, tanned skin, and a well-trained straight posture.
“Good evening, Miss Simons. My name is Jack Davis. You can call me Davis, and I am here to take you to Mr. Wood’s penthouse.”
I gaped as if he was talking in a foreign language.
Warily, I already was gripping the door handle tightly as I angled myself away from him. “And he can’t come, why?” I asked when he mentioned Forrest.
“Mr. Wood is caught up with something, Miss Simons.”
Although Forrest didn’t warn me to take extra precautions, I was not stupid enough to go with this man because he mentioned Mr. Wood. That b***h could have hired someone to kidnap me and torture me in the warehouse.
“And
