A woman accepts $100K from her boyfriend for surgery, only to be drawn into a dangerous mystery when a secret admirer with mafia ties starts sending her messages. Torn between her relationship and the shadowy stranger's pull, she must uncover who is watching her and why before the truth catches up with her.
They say no, mean maybe, and all you have to do is give it a few hours. Doesn't matter how powerful they are. I slept beautifully. The next morning, I took my time, did my skincare, made coffee,
stretched in a patch of sunlight like a cat before I finally casually picked up my phone. I already knew what I'd find. A man who told me he would never cross that line, doesn't try to call you six times unless he's having a crisis. Sure enough.
Forget it. No, you don't get to walk that back. Explain. When you said you're looking boyfriend, I've been thinking about it. Maybe I'm not a bad option, but I don't do side If this happens, it's real. You've gone quiet. Are you asleep or is someone else getting your attention right now? One missed voice call. Don't make me compete with strangers on the internet.
Two missed voice calls. If that makes me the other man, so be it. Nico is no saint. Last time he was in Vegas, he had six girls on his arm.
None of them knew each other's names. Then don't get me started on what he got up to in Tokyo. I paused on that one, six girls? Vegas?
Tokyo? What the hell kind of double life was my boyfriend living? You still there? It's late.
Go to sleep. I'll be here tomorrow. Four hours. That's how long his loyalty to his own blood lasted.
I was still scrolling when a new message popped up at the bottom of the screen. For a man his age, this was a federal crime. Then again, everything about him was a crime.