Chapter 4

My phone buzzed at exactly 9:47 PM, three days after I'd confronted Jensen about the photos. I'd been sitting in my studio, staring at the evidence Marcus had compiled—bank statements, property deeds, marriage certificates—when Jensen's name lit up my screen.

"Quinn, we need to talk." His voice carried that familiar warmth that had once made my heart flutter. Now it just made my stomach clench. "I'm flying back tonight. I can explain everything."

"There's nothing to explain," I said, my fingers tracing the edge of Natalia Lawrence's marriage certificate. "I know about your wife, Jensen. Your real wife."

Silence stretched…