Me: Okay, mafia man. Relax.
 
 The dots appear again, then?—
 
 Unknown Number: So you do think I’m dangerous.
 
 My pulse skips.
 
 I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
 
 Something about the way he phrased that—smooth, knowing, like he’s aware that I’ve thought about it.
 
 About him.
 
 Me: I think you like pretending to be.
 
 Unknown Number: And what if I don’t?
 
 A slow shiver runs down my spine.
 
 Jesus. How does he do this?
 
 I shake my head, pulling myself back into reality.
 
 Me: Well, if you’re planning my revenge, make it subtle. I need this job.
 
 Unknown Number: Noted. No bodies left behind.
 
 I snort, quickly covering it up when Brittany glances my way.
 
 Me: You’re ridiculous.
 
 Unknown Number: And yet, you’re still texting me.
 
 I bite my lip, heart beating just a little too fast.
 
 He’s right.
 
 And I don’t want to stop.
 
 7
 
 DAMIEN
 
 I should be sleeping.
 
 Instead, I’m sitting in my dimly lit bedroom, phone in hand, texting a woman whose name I don’t even know.
 
 And for some reason, I can’t fucking stop.
 
 She’s funny. Quick-witted. Sharp in a way that makes me want to push her, see how far she’ll go before she breaks.
 
 But more than that—she’s bold.
 
 And I like that. It’s been a while since someone intrigued me like this.
 
 Since someone had me waiting for their next text, wondering what they’ll say, how they’ll react.
 
 I smirk as I type.