Chapter 43

This had to be the sickest dinner Scarlett had ever been invited to.

Jacob sat at the other long end of the table, fixing his tie and putting on an apron to not spill food over his clothes. He looked like a kid getting ready for Christmas dinner, smiling radiantly at her.

Yet Scarlett knew better than to translate his expression into anything remotely friendly.

Jacob was a psychopath.

The proof would be that Griffin sat at the table, too, a gun to his head and a sullen expression on his bruised face. He didn't look happy, and if looks could kill, Jacob would be dead.

And Scarlett herself?

A guard stood behind her, ready to shoot her if she even attempted to leave the goddamn dinner table. Not that Scarlett thought Jacob would kill her, not when the freak wanted one of her children.

He was indeed a sick man.

Devastatingly handsome with a face identical to the man she loved, but totally whack-a-mole crazy.

"Are you ready for the appetizers?" Jacob asked, leaning his chin against the