![]() ![]() "Hi, Sylvie! Kyle Drinnen here, calling from the Arkansas Sun with a few questions about your recent move to Connecticut." a friendly male voice with a strong southern accent answers. I pick up with a small, Hello, this is Sylvie? But now-now someone is calling me from an Arkansas number. And I absolutely believed that would be the case…until two weeks ago. ![]() I can still remember telling Jack Calson with certainty that I would not see his son again. That ain’t part of our agreement, girlie…" And I remember the last time I took a call from that area code less than an hour after Holt left my home in a cab. I pick it up quick, afraid it might wake Wes and Barron in the other room.īut when I see the number at the top of the screen, my heart freezes. My phone is vibrating on the cottage kitchen table when I walk back in through the side door. These questions plague me all the way back to the guest house where that ruthless tycoon, Holt Calson, had installed my son and me after forcing me to take a job as his son’s nanny. ![]() Did I really just make a deal with my devil of a new boss? Sex in exchange for my eventual freedom? ![]()
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