Page 40 of His Playground

You don’t know me, but I want you to know how grateful I am to you. I hope that you will be able to love Jasmine as if she were your own. I hopethat you give her a chance to make your life as full as she made mine.

I know Carlo will love her and protect her and give her the world, but every little girl needs a mother figure and I wish for Jazzy to have that too.

You don’t owe me anything, but I’m asking anyway. Please watch over her. Guide her. I know with your guidance, she will grow up to be a wonderful woman. I’ve watched you for the past week. I know you are kindhearted. I’ve seen it.

I can go with knowledge that my little girl will be looked after and cherished by both Carlo and you.

Eternally grateful,

P

Oh my god. This is Jazzy’s mom.That woman was Jazzy’s mom. Shit.

I pick up my phone and call Carlo. “Mrs. Bianchi?” he answers.

“Where are you?” I ask him.

“The office on the ground floor. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Is Jazzy there?”

“Yeah, why? What’s going on?”

“Can you get someone to watch her? We need to talk,” I tell him.

“Sure, where are you?”

“The penthouse. It’s about her mom. I don’t want her to hear anything and get upset,” I explain.

“I’ll be right there.” The call cuts off, and I stare at my phone. I know what I have to do.

I pull up the message from the unknown number, the one that said they had a way for me to get out of this marriage.

Me:

I’m not interested.

Unknown:

You’ll be sorry.

I block the number. I really doubt they can do anything. When I hear the elevator door ping open, I stand and meet Carlo in the foyer. Letter in my hand.

“She was in my lecture hall. She dropped this on her way out. I just opened it,” I say as I pass him the note.

He reads it over and his brows draw down. “She’s been watching you? What the fuck?” He crumbles the paper in his hands.

“Don’t do that,” I tell him.

“Why?”

“Because if Jazzy ever has doubts that her mother loved her, that letter proves otherwise.” I snatch the note from him and do my best to uncrinkle it.

“She left her. She’s writing notes to you—she’s basically admitted to stalking you, Antonia. Who knows what this woman is up to? What she’s capable of? And she got that close to you. Fuck.” Carlo storms down the hall and into his office.

“I don’t think she has ill intent. She didn’t look right, Carlo.”

“What do you mean?” He turns around.