Michael's POV
My fingers dug into the mahogany surface of my desk, knuckles white with tension. The silence in my home office felt suffocating, but I needed answers before this rage consumed me entirely.
I snatched my phone and dialed Blake's number. The private investigator I'd hired better have something concrete this time.
"Blake here," came his voice after the first ring.
"Talk," I demanded without preamble.
"Actually, I was about to reach out to you," he said, but something in his tone made my spine stiffen. Blake was never tentative. The man delivered facts like bullets - fast and direct.
"What did you uncover?" I pressed.
A beat of silence stretched between us. "Michael, this information... it's going to be difficult to hear."
My jaw clenched. "I didn't hire you to handle me with kid gloves. Give me what you found."
