Andrea lets go of the curtain and runs back to the bed. With a leap, she hops onto the soft mattress and pulls the duvet up to her chin. It’s well after midnight, and the Clifford mansion is silent except for the loud, rough s*x in the room next door. Caitan moans again even louder than before, and Andrea wonders if the girl is being obnoxious on purpose.
Her phone buzzes again and she squints at it: “Ten minutes have passed.” She closes the text message and locks her phone. What does it matter if she meets Lance or not? There’s no way he’ll leak the recording—he’s incredibly private, and would never want anyone to hear him having s*x.
The phone buzzes again. This time there’s a photo attached to the text. She taps it and nearly drops the phone. The photo is a screenshot of a tabloid we
