Rhett’s POV
I truly hadn’t expected that Grandma would travel all the way from Saint Madeleine to Bayou Pointe, and even manage to find the waterfront villa where I’m living now.
She’s old, yet always brisk and capable. This time, though, she carried a gravity that made me vaguely uneasy.
She called me into the living room. There were no pleasantries at all. She simply pulled a photograph from her handbag and slid it across the table toward me.
In the photo, I was pinned against the hood of a car by a girl. The angle was deliberately chosen—ambiguous and glaringly provocative.
I needed only a glance to know where it had come from. From that angle, there could be no one else but Jackson.
I silently marked him down for it. The score wouldn’t be settled now, but sooner or later, it woul
