Cane's POV
I was at the office, trying to get through my emails. My head was pounding. Another long day. My secretary, Anna, came in holding a plain manila envelope.
"This just came for you, Mr. Cane," she said. "No return address."
I took it, my mind still on a contract I was reading. "Thanks."
I tore it open and pulled out the contents. Photographs. Of Stephanie.
My blood went cold for a second, then hot.
The pictures showed her talking to a man. He was tall, well-dressed. She was smiling at him. In one photo, he was handing her what looked like a business card. They were standing close. Too close for my liking.
There was a note, typed, anonymous.
'She's not the innocent you think she is. Ask her about her new friend.'
I stared at the photos. My first thought was rage. A red, blinding rage. Who was he? Where was this?
