When Jamison arrived at the club on his own, the guys immediately pounced on him with questions.

“Where’s your wife? You came out to have fun without her?”

“No way, man, call her up! She should be here too!”

Jamison just smiled coolly. “I’d love to, but she’s busy.”

Naylor Wilson slung an arm around Jamison’s shoulder, grinning. “Come on, Jamison, what could Mrs. Ludwig possibly be busy with that’s more important than hanging out with the famous Dr. Ludwig?”

“She’s back at university. Living on campus. I haven’t seen her in days.”

“What?” The group of young men stared at him, genuinely surprised.

“Are you telling us you married a wife you barely see? Is this just for show?”

“Jamison, how did Ivy even win you over? I heard she was missing for three years and she even had a…”

Before that guy could finish, Naylor nudged him hard with an elbow, signaling him to shut up.

Jamison knew what sort of gossip had been circulating lately–pretty much the same things Celeste Quinn had hinted at. People thought Ivy Windsor had been kidnapped for three years, came back with a child, probably lost her innocence, maybe even suffered at the hands of more than one man. They all laughed behind Jamison’s back, thinking the pickiest guy in their circle had ended up marrying damaged goods.

He didn’t bother clarifying; even if he did, no one would believe him. Instead, he glanced at them coldly and spoke, measured and firm. “Whatever Ivy’s been through, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s my wife. If you still consider me a friend, I don’t want to hear those kinds of jokes again. If you don’t–well, next time, don’t blame me for losing my temper.”

Suddenly, the room fell silent.

The guys who’d been joking around all looked embarrassed, fiddling with their drinks and staring at the floor.

“Come on, Jamison, we were just messing around. We know Ivy was an innocent victim. It was our bad, shouldn’t have joked about it.”

“Yeah, that was out of line, man–I’ll take three shots to make up for it!”

A few others quickly followed suit, raising their glasses and downing drinks in apology.

Jamison realized it was a bit much to call them out so harshly at a birthday party, so he lifted his own glass of beer. “Jaime, happy birthday. Don’t let me spoil the mood.”

He tossed back his drink in one go.

“Hey, it’s fine, man. I’m just glad you made it!” The birthday guy laughed, quickly smoothing things over, and the mood soon lightened again.

Naylor patted Jamison’s shoulder, lowering his voice. “Sorry, I should’ve given everyone a heads-up. Didn’t mean to get you upset.”

“It’s nothing. Better to clear the air now and be done with it. Otherwise, they’ll just keep bringing it up.”

“True.” Naylor nodded, then looked at him in genuine surprise. “But your wife is something else–juggling the Windsor family drama and going back to school? That’s impressive.”

Mention of the Windsor family reminded Jamison of that drive to campus, when Ivy had briefly talked about it. If nothing went wrong, she’d soon be taking the reins at the Windsor Group.

Just then, Jamison’s phone buzzed – an internal call from his department.

“You guys go ahead, I need to take this.” He stepped out with his phone.

He was still on the call when someone passed by. He barely noticed, until a familiar female voice caught his ear. He turned around, almost on instinct.

It was Emma Windsor.

She was dressed provocatively, tottering unsteadily on high heels, obviously drunk. Two men, one on each arm, were leading her out, laughing and flirting as they went. Sheridan Carter wasn’t with them.

Jamison’s instincts kicked in, and he quietly followed them out.

In the parking lot, the two men bundled Emma into the backseat of a car–then both climbed in after her.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were about to do. Jamison had expected they’d at least wait until they got to a hotel. He never imagined they’d get started right there in the car.

The luxury sedan rocked back and forth under their rough movement.

Jamison was about to walk away, but suddenly heard a cry for help. He glanced back.

Emma, disheveled and half-dressed, was trying to push open the car door, but one of the men–equally disheveled–grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back inside.

The back windows were tinted, but through the windshield, Jamison could just make out what was happening inside. Two men, one woman–it was appalling.

He frowned, pulled out his phone, and carefully zoomed in with the camera. Even in the dark, his phone captured the scene clearly. Emma was held by the chin, treated roughly, as if she were nothing more than a plaything. Her clothes were torn, her skin covered in bruises and scratch marks.

Jamison wasn’t one to get involved in other people’s business, but from the look of things, Emma might not even survive the night. He was a doctor. He couldn’t just ignore it.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned away and dialed 911.

Let the police handle it. That way, Emma would be rescued, and maybe the city would be a little safer.

Then he called Boyd Ludwig.

“Uncle Boyd? What’s up?”

“I told you to keep an eye on Emma. Any updates?”

“We are. Word is, Emma’s currently getting up close and personal with two businessmen. Sheridan Carter himself dropped her off.”

Jamison’s expression didn’t change. He wasn’t surprised. Sheridan had pulled this kind of stunt before.

“He still hasn’t broken off the engagement with Emma?” That was what he really wanted to know. Just a few days ago, Sheridan had called and threatened to end it all, trying to sabotage Jamison’s plans with Ivy.

“I don’t think so. Emma’s still staying at Sheridan’s place, but he clearly doesn’t care about her. Our people saw him bring home two gorgeous women last night. For all we know, it turned into a party of four.”