Davina's POV
"But how did they find out?"
"Hell if I know," I said, my voice cutting but unsteady. "They weren't guessing, Chase. They knew. They were dead certain."
My hands shook as I raked them through my hair, but my eyes blazed with the memory of Louise and Barnaby's smug faces. That look wasn't some wild hunch or lucky guess. It was knowledge, and knowledge was a weapon.
Whether I liked it or not, they'd always be Jenkins—plotting, manipulating, never backing down until they claimed their prize.
Trapping me in that office earlier, blocking my exit, proved they'd cross any line when things didn't go their way.
That scene kept looping in my head, screaming that I couldn't wait until it was too late.
I shook my head hard.
"I'm leaving, Chase. I know you care. I know you want what's best for us. But I can't stay here anymore. I won't."
"Davina, don't you think leaving is more dangerous—"
"Chase—" I cut him off.
