Ridley's eyebrows drew together as the unfamiliar voice came through his phone. "Who's calling?" he demanded.
"I'm Harold Robertson, one of Ana's old high school friends. We're organizing a class reunion next week, but nobody can get through to her. We tracked down your number and hoped you could relay the invitation," the caller explained.
Ridley gave a curt response and ended the call. After a brief pause, he tried dialing her number.
It didn't take long for him to discover the truth—I'd blocked his calls completely.
Rage flashed across his features as he barked orders to his assistant. "Track down Ana's location. Now."
—————
Ana's POV
The following morning, I stood in my living room stuffing clothes into a suitcase, getting ready to head to Elma's place soon.
A sharp knock interrupted my packing. Assuming Morris had arrived, I rushed to answer it. My stomach dropped when Ridley's face greeted me instead.
"What brings you here?" I asked, my voice tight.
