Eve didn’t move for a long time.
She stood in the middle of her apartment, her pulse hammering against her ribs, her fingers clenched into fists. Her skin still burned where he had touched her—her wrist, her throat, her hip.
Adrian was gone.
But the weight of him lingered, thick in the air.
Slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope he had slipped there. It felt heavier than the last one, like whatever was inside carried more than just words.
She hesitated. Then, with a sharp inhale, she slid a nail beneath the seal.
Inside was a single card, black and smooth, just like the first. But this time, the message wasn’t handwritten.
This time, it was printed.
An invitation.
One week. Seven nights. No rules. No escape.
Come to me. Or I’ll come to you.
A time. A place. Tonight. Midnight.
Eve’s fingers tightened around the edges.
No. No, this was insane.
Adrian was playing a game. He had been from the beginning. But this? This wasn’t a game anymore.
She should have torn the card apart.
Should have packed a bag, changed her number, gotten the hell out of town.
But instead, she exhaled slowly, set the card down, and reached for her phone.
Unknown Number: You got my message.
She stiffened.
Her hands were still shaking when she typed.
Eve: Fuck you.
The reply came instantly.
Unknown Number: Patience, little rabbit. We’ll get there.
A sharp thrill curled in her stomach.
She should block him. She should tell someone.
But instead, she stared at the message, at the invitation still sitting on her counter.
One week. Seven nights. No rules.
She should have been afraid.
And maybe she was.
But fear wasn’t the only thing twisting inside her.
She was curious.
And that was so much worse.
