Jack harrumphed at his subordinate. “There’s no need to check up on her. She’s a tough one. She won’t die.”
His subordinate thought about the bloodied scene that had happened to me. With gritted teeth, he said, “But your father—”
Jack kicked the man. “Whitney is my wife! This has nothing to do with my father! Mind your own business. Don’t forget who’s paying you!”
The subordinate left.
After Jack calmed down, he started worrying about what his father would think, so he took his phone out and called me.
My phone rang in his pocket. He suddenly remembered that he had taken my phone.
“Forget it. Consider it a lesson to her. She should’ve known what would’ve happened to her the moment she drugged me.”
I lifted my hand and reached into Jack’s brain. Sometimes, I hoped I could see what was in his brain.
Jack only believed the things he saw.
