?Chapter 83:


    Satisfied, Rosanna turned and slipped into the shadows, her bare feet silent against the floor.


    Roughly thirty minutester, Jarrod was jolted awake by the shrill scream of his ringtone.


    With a groan, he dragged a hand across his face, irritation shing through him. “Who the hell thinks it’s a good idea to call me at this hour?” Jarrod seethed silently.


    Reaching blindly, Jarrod grabbed his phone off the nightstand and squinted at the glowing screen, clear annoyance etched on his face. His irritation evaporated the second he saw the caller ID.


    With a frown, he quickly checked his messages — no photos, no updates. So why the sudden call?


    After a brief pause, Jarrod answered, his voice clipped and sharp, “Where are the photos?”


    “What photos? Are you fucking kidding me?!” the voice on the other end screamed, loud enough to make Jarrod yank the phone away from his ear. “You set us up, huh?! You send us after some lunatic for scraps of cash? Are you trying to get us killed?!”


    Jarrod sat up straight,pletely thrown off guard. “What are you talking about? What lunatic? This was supposed to be about Maia — what freak?”


    “That chick? She’s a goddamn monster! You think we’re some lowlife amateurs? Keep your damn money. We’re done. Lose our number!”


    The next thing Jarrod heard was the click of the call ending. He sat there in stunned silence, the dead line buzzing softly in his ear. Tension radiated from the man on the other end of the call.


    Momentster, a notification pinged on Jarrod’s screen — the entire payment he had sent was refunded without a word.


    Updates loaded at g??????σv????s.co??


    Staring nkly at his phone, Jarrod couldn’t process what he had just heard.


    “A freak? Was that guy talking about Maia?” Not only had they bailed, but they had returned the money too. What on earth had gone down? Jarrod waspletely confused.


    These were not rookies. Those guys had handled plenty of dirty jobs for Jarrod in the past. They were dependable. How could three full-grown men lose to a single woman?


    Frozen with a sick feeling churning in his gut, Jarrod tried calling the number again. Nothing. The line was dead. He had been blocked.


    Frantically, he fired off a few texts — each one bouncing back, undelivered. Stunned into silence, Jarrod could only sit there, his phone slipping from his fingers.


    “What the actual hell just happened?” he muttered, his voice low and shaken.


    Frustration boiled over. Jarrod hurled the phone onto the bed and copsed backward, ring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers he desperately needed.


    The following day, Rosanna was already awake, buzzing with anticipation.


    She couldn’t wait to hear how badly Maia had been crushed.


    Just imagining Maia humiliated and ruined filled Rosanna with a dark, gleeful satisfaction she could barely contain. Perched at the breakfast table, Rosanna stirred her oatmeal with delicate grace, doing her best to hide the smug little smile tugging at her lips.


    Before long, the sound of footsteps announced Jarrod’s arrival.


    Right on schedule, just as she had expected — she had made sure to be here when he showed up. Still, something was off.


    “Rough night, Jarrod?” Rosanna asked sweetly, eyeing the heavy shadows bruising the skin beneath his eyes.


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