Henry Jackson sat in the back of the squad car, staring out the window in disbelief, his mind a whirlwind of shock and fury. "This can't be happening," he whispered to himself, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into his wrists. Rafael's reach was longer than he'd imagined, a web of influence that ensnared anyone who dared approach. At the station, he used his one call to summon his lawyer, a sharp-minded family lawyer who'd handled many cases for the Jacksons before. Bail was posted swiftly, but the humiliation burned like acid.
"Retrieve my car from Vexley Enterprises' lot," Henry instructed his family's secretary over the phone, his voice clipped as he paced the station lobby post-release. "And don't say a word to anyone about this." He hailed a cab home, the ride a blur of simmering rage. By the time he unlocked his apartment door, the anger had solidified into a cold resolve. Rafael Vexley was a monster, and Henry was done playing by his rules.
