He Chose Her, So I Faked My Death novel · Chapter 22 of 32

Chapter 22: Three Years

Imogen's POV

Jasper's hand was closed on four sheets of paper, and his face was the color of the vault wall.

"Give me those," I said.

He did not move.

"Jasper."

He opened his fingers.

The pages dropped on the steel table, creased where he had gripped them.

I picked them up.

They were written and initialed in Preston's tight, cramped hand.

Radcliffe Holdings. The Radcliffe chairman, guarantor.

Hold for leverage.

Beside the open drawer lay a second copy of the same four sheets, soft at the folds from a long time in a pocket.

I picked that one up too.

In the corner, in black pen, was a date three years old.

Under it, in Jasper's handwriting, he had written: Not yet.

I looked at him.

"You've had this for three years," I said.

"Yes."

"You had it the night you pulled me out of the water."

"Yes."

"You had it in the kitchen when you told me the judge signed the petition. You had it when you kissed me. You had it on the rug."

"Imogen."

"Don't say my name."

My voice was quiet, and I did not recognize it.

I had thought the worst thing a man could do to me was slap me in a ballroom.

It turned out to be this.

"Listen to me," he said. "I took the job at your brother's tower because those pages showed your father's name. I was going to use him to get to Ames."

"And then you met me."

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