Jonathan knew the moment things began to unravel — it wasn’t in Gigi’s words, but in the silence between them.
Silence used to be her language of peace. Lately, it had become distant.
The first c***k appeared on a Thursday afternoon.
Sultana stopped answering his calls.
He had dialed three times — once in irritation, once in curiosity, and finally in faint dread. By the fourth, he stopped trying. The woman had always been efficient, pragmatic, and desperate to please. Her silence was the kind of omen he’d learned to recognize — not rebellion, but exposure.
Then came the email.
Short, unsigned, but unmistakably hers.
“She knows. Fix it before he does.”
He didn’t need clarification.
He meant Jason Jae.
Jonathan stared at the message for a long time, the cursor blinking like a pulse
