Petty could tell he was determined to wait her out, and her stubborn side kicked in. Still, when she noticed the snow piling up on his shoulders, she let out an impatient click of her tongue.
The bodyguard watched as Petty tilted her head, shifted gears, and the car slowly backed up. It looked like she was about to turn around and head back to the garage.
He finally started to relax.
Then, out of nowhere, the headlights blazed to life, flooding the driveway with harsh white light. The engine roared and the black sedan shot forward, fast and sleek like a panther on the hunt.
On instinct, the bodyguard took a quick step back. That was all Petty needed. The car sped past, and through the window, she shot him a sly grin and a mock salute.
So you want to play games with me? Nice try.
A second later, the car was gone.
He stood there, completely speechless.
***
Back at Belvedere Heights, Petty checked the time. It was only 3:20 in the morning. Dawn was still hours away.
She collapsed onto her bed, her body aching with exhaustion, but even with her eyes closed, sleep wouldn’t come.
She rolled over and, almost automatically, opened her bedside drawer, reaching inside. Nothing.
Only then did she remember—she’d finished her sleeping pills last night.
With nothing left to help her sleep, Petty hugged her knees to her chest and sat by the window, watching the snow swirl through the darkness. The night dragged on, and it was almost morning before she managed to doze off, her head resting against the wall.
The next two days passed in silence. Not a word from Franco.
If he refused to sign, her only option would be to take him to court.
Once it got to that point, everyone would find out. It wouldn’t just affect her and Franco, but the entire White Group.
The White family had always treated her well. Unless she had no other choice, she didn’t want things to get ugly with Franco.
Two days later, Petty rode with the news crew to the site of the explosion from the other night.
They still needed her for the follow-up coverage.



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