Jamison still wasn’t at ease. He frowned and asked, “Do you really have to go back to campus today?”

“Yes. I’ve still got plenty to do, and staying home would only waste time.” Ivy knew exactly what he was worried about. She reached out, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Those people aren’t worth my sadness or frustration–let alone worth disrupting my life over.”

Jamison had always admired that about her. No matter the situation, she kept her head clear, always weighing what mattered most. She never wasted energy on pointless drama, never got bogged down in regrets. She just pressed on, steady and sure, toward her goals.

“In that case, let me drive you back.”

“There’s no need, I can-”

“It’s either you don’t go, or I’m driving you. Pick one.” Jamison’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Ivy could only relent. “Alright. You can drive me.”

They headed out together. Once they were in the car, Jamison’s phone rang.

“Uncle, Adkins was taken to the hospital, but he should be alright.” Boyd sounded nervous–he’d trailed after Adkins out of concern that things might get out of hand.

“Understood. Thanks, Boyd. I’ll take Ivy back to campus.”

“Okay.”

Ivy had overheard their conversation, but she stayed calm, as if none of it concerned her.

Jamison didn’t mention it further. He just glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, his voice gentle. “Now that things with the Windsors are settled, do you feel any less resentment?”

Ivy answered coolly, “Honestly, I was never all that angry. I just didn’t want to let them off easy. Now that they’ve fallen so far, I’ve had my closure. It’s just a shame Emma wasn’t there today–she managed to dodge the bullet.”

Mentioning Emma made Ivy recall what Rosetta had said earlier.

“I’d actually planned to force the Windsors to cut ties with Emma. Katrina told me that a biological parent–child relationship can’t be dissolved, but an adoptive relationship can. But as it turns out, Emma beat me to it; she’s already distanced herself from the Windsors.”

Ivy let out a cold, mocking laugh. “She really is ruthless.”

Jamison gave a faint smile. “Emma’s always been sharp–a textbook self–serving perfectionist. She stuck close to Adkins and Rosetta in the past, desperate to become the only Miss Windsor, because back then the family still had status. But now, with the Windsors in shambles and bankruptcy looming, she’s running faster than a rabbit not to get dragged down with them.”

Ivy frowned, puzzled. “But Sheridan’s no saint either. Shouldn’t she at least pick the lesser evil between staying with the Windsors or siding with Sheridan?”

Jamison thought for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Maybe it’s not that she doesn’t want to, but that she can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Jamison remembered what he’d stumbled upon a few nights ago when Naylor had called him out. Suddenly, he pulled over to the curb and took out his phone.

Ivy grew more confused, watching him warily. “What are you doing?”

“I want to show you something.”

Jamison scrolled through his photo gallery and handed her the phone.

Ivy took it, still unsure, her eyes falling on the screen. She didn’t even register the faces in the photos at first–just the entangled limbs of a man and a woman. Her face flushed a deep red, and she turned to Jamison, smacking him on the arm.

“Jamison! What’s wrong with you? Looking at this kind of thing in broad daylight! And even if you must, you have the nerve to show me? Pervert!”

Jamison was caught off guard by her outburst, dodging her blows as he protested, “You’ve got it all wrong! That’s not what you think. Look at who’s in these photos.”

Ivy paused, her eyes narrowed like a suspicious cat, equal parts embarrassed and annoyed.

Rubbing his sore arm, Jamison retrieved the phone and held it up for her to see.

Ivy, cheeks still burning, forced herself to look. Doing her best to ignore the compromising positions, she focused on the woman’s face.

Her eyes widened in shock. “Emma? How do you have photos of Emma like this? Did Sheridan force her to take dirty pictures and blackmail her?”

Jamison handed her the phone. “There are a few more.”

“I don’t want to see!” She shoved the phone back at him, unable to resist asking, “Where did you even get these?”

Jamison took the phone back and deleted the photos on the spot.

“A few nights ago, Naylor called me out for a drink. You weren’t home, and I was bored, so I went. I ended up at a club, and saw Emma being hauled off by two men. I followed them outside and witnessed all of this.”

Ivy blinked, trying to process. “They just… did that in the car? Out in the open?”

“Yeah. I don’t think Emma was willing, though. At one point she tried to escape and called for help, but they dragged her back. What happened after… was even worse than what I managed to capture.”

Ivy was silent, her expression unreadable.

She’d never thought much about these kinds of things–she’d always valued her dignity and self–respect, and her focus was elsewhere. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have looked like–a woman with two men, all tangled up in the backseat of a car. It was just revolting. Ugly. Depraved.

“She cheated on Sheridan like that? Isn’t she afraid of being beaten again?” Ivy forced herself to ask, pushing down her disgust.