The confrontation had been rocky, bordering on humiliating, as expected, but she wasn’t dead. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he pulled out a knife or gun and made her beg for her life. Not after he promised to destroy her all those months ago. His claims about not dealing drugs hit harder. He’d always denied the charges, but didn’t they all. Seeing a rich man’s lawyer cry to the media about falsified charges had become such an eye-rolling event that it no longer even registered in her brain. Face-to-face with the sharp snap of Jarrett’s voice and piercing gaze right there where she couldn’t look away or ignore proved different. He’d almost willed her to believe. He acted like he didn’t care about one syllable she uttered as he vibrated with indignation over the old charges. It was an impressive display, but she’d seen the drugs right downstairs in one of the storage rooms and found more in the office in this apartment.
