When Naomi Norwood heard Aiden Shaw dredge up the past, she panicked. She was terrified Caleb Cross would believe him and suspect she'd thrown herself down the stairs.
"Caleb, I didn't do it. I wasn't the one who arranged what happened at the bar. I'm not as ruthless as they claim, and I would never just stand by and watch you get beaten up."
Naomi Norwood sobbed, frantically shaking her head in panic.
"I know. Don't cry."
Caleb Cross had previously had someone investigate. The men who'd fought him at the bar and the reporter who'd leaked the photos—it had all, in fact, been arranged by Naomi Norwood.
The whole affair had been a premeditated setup.
'Maybe... what just happened was also something she did to herself...'
As if hit by a sudden realization, Caleb Cross gave a helpless tug at the corner of his lips. He knew she was no good, but he still couldn't stop himself from loving her.
"You two should go. I'll take care of Naomi."
