Page 77 of Unthinkable

My hand shakes as I point toward the gate. “Drive through the gates and park around the back,” I tell Brett. “Clint will only be twenty minutes, and I want to grab the jewelry before he comes back.”

“My father is going to go crazy if he finds out, Amanda.” He groans, and I smile at his innocence. When I first started fucking him, he had no clue who I was, though I knew everything about him. I was the mother of the girl he had a crush on, and I intended to use this relationship between us as ammunition to keep him in line.

What I didn’t expect was for Imogen not to have her head turned toward him. He has a great body. Which begs the question: who the hell is she screwing around with? Who gave her the hickeys that have been appearing on her neck over the last few weeks?

Sure, the little whore thinks she’s doing a good job of covering them up, but I wrote the handbook on deception; she won’t get anything past me. Not a damn thing.

Brett does as I ask, and the moment we pull up at the back entrance, he’s out of the car and following me like the little lap dog I know him to be, always so obedient and submissive for me.

What really pisses me off is how much attention he shows Imogen. The boy craves her like I crave my next drink, my black card, the society balls, and more.

Keeping him around under the pretense of Imogen opening her legs for him has become like dangling a carrot at a horse. He wants her, and the boy is prepared to do anything to get her.

Anything.

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” He darts his gaze around the garden.

“This is my home!” I snap. “I don’t need permission to enter my own fucking home.”

Jensen told me to pick the perfect home for a family, and I chose this one, therefore, it’s mine. As it should be. I deserve this for putting up with her bullshit. It’s just a shame he insisted on making so many adjustments to accommodate his little princess’s needs. It took me screwing the building planners to put a stop to him expanding the pool house for her, a move that now serves me well because it brought Brett into our lives.

I enter the code for the back entrance, and it clicks open. Perfect, the idiot hasn’t taken steps to lock me out just yet.

Brett follows me into the kitchen, and with a flick of my hair over my shoulder, I stride through the foyer and head upstairs. There’s no way in hell I’m going to allow them to waltz in here and take what I deserve, not before giving me some form of compensation and retribution.

A sneer toys with my lips as I push open her bedroom door and step inside. “Go check the bathroom for any jewelry. She wears sapphire earrings that I’m sure her mother gave her. I want them,” I demand.

I head to her dresser and rummage through her drawers, and when my hand lands on a small box, adrenaline rushes up my spine.

Bingo, little bitch.

I flick the gold latch and open the box, but disappointment hits me square in my chest. “What the hell?” I take the small box labeled ‘Oxycodone’ out and open it. Does she have a drug problem?

Brett appears at the entrance to the bathroom, holding a box in his hand, his brow furrowed. “Hey, Amanda. Is Immie pregnant?”

My jaw hits the floor. I’m about to have the biggest payday yet. Throw in some vengeance, and Jensen Marino will wish he’d left her with her mother all along.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

JENSEN

“What have you got?” I motion toward Miko, who sits at the kitchen counter tapping frantically on his tablet. Anger flows through me like lava until I can’t take the wait any longer. “Miko!”

He doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he rolls his eyes and slowly drags his gaze up to mine. A loud huff leaves him before he finally speaks. “I’ve hacked into Immie’s cellphone. She has some interesting browsing history.” He lifts his eyebrow and fixes me with his gaze.

My heart skips a beat.

“What the hell does that mean, exactly?”

“It means she’s completely obsessed with you.”

That explains nothing.

“Has been for a long while.” He looks at me pointedly.

“Clarify!” I snap and brush a hand over my head; my patience is wearing very fucking thin.

“Ahh, let’s see. How to get a man to fall in love with you.” He begins to read what I assume is the search history. “Ways to drug someone that makes them appear drunk.” My eyes widen. “Oxycodone. Can Oxycodone become addictive?” Has she been drugging Amanda all along? Surely not. “Can you put Oxycodone in food without tasting it?” What the hell? “How to monitor your menstrual cycle? How quickly can you become pregnant?”