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PROLOGUE: LITTLE MISS MUFFET

“Beware! I am going to make you cry.”

— Lucian Staniak

The moment Daniel entered the coffee shop,he noticed her immediately. She was seated in the corner, hunched over with her back to the window—her fingers trembling as they clutched her boyfriend’s letter. It was the sort of letter that created a pit in the stomach, heralding inevitable heartache. He noticed the tears welling in her eyes, despite her efforts to hold them back. It wasn’t her fault she appeared so vulnerable—women always seemed that way when they were at their most fragile, and he was determined to be the one to help her.

He walked toward her slowly, giving her enough time to notice him. She didn’t. So, he moved closer, keeping his steps light and controlled. This was it. He would be the knight in shining armor, offering her sympathy and making her feel safe just before he took her from this place.

He waited for her to look up.

She finally did, and he saw the redness of her eyes, the swelling in her throat that was trying to contain the sobs. He’d seen it a hundred times before, but he had to admit, the effect was still satisfying.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle and sweet, almost like honey. It was a tone that encouraged others to relax and trust him. “Are you okay?”

Her gaze flickered over him, a little wary at first, before she nodded weakly. Her lips trembled.God, she’s fragile. This will be easier than I thought.

Initially, she remained silent. Instead, she gazed at the letter in her hand, as if struggling to comprehend its contents. He drew nearer, asserting his presence, leaning in just enough for her to take notice of him.

“I couldn’t help but notice... you seem to be dealing with something.” He inclined his head, giving her a compassionate smile. She hesitated before responding, which only heightened her sense of vulnerability. Good. He needed her to remain in that fragile state, ensuring she felt compelled to rely on him.

She finally exhaled a long breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s... nothing. Just—just personal stuff.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She was so close to breaking, and he could almost taste it.

“Personal stuff?” he repeated, his voice low and steady, just enough to sound concerned andsafe. His heart rate slowed; this was what he’d been waiting for. “You don’t have to tell me. But sometimes it helps to talk to someone. Bottling everything up is not good, especially when things go... south.”

He let the silence linger, allowing her to decide whether she would open up to him.Please open up, he thought to himself.Let me get inside your head.

She looked at him again, searching, as if seeking reassurance. He didn’t need to offer much—just a small, patient smile. That was all it took. She crumpled, eyes glistening, and her voice breaking apart.

“I-I don’t know where I went wrong. We… we were planning to get married. We were in love. Now he says he no longer loves me. That he's with someone else.” She struggled to get the words out, and a tear finally fell. That’s it, darling. You’re nearly there. “I-I don’t understand… I just don’t…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his voice as if he cared. As if he were really sorry. He wasn’t. Not even close. “I can’t imagine how much that hurts. But I promise you, you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”

She wiped her eyes, sniffling, but she didn’t pull away. She was now vulnerable, caught in the tide of her emotions. Perfect.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” he continued, trying to sound comforting, “but I’ve been through something similar. It feels like the world’s collapsing on you, right? Like everything you thought you knew about love... has shattered.” He gave her a moment to process the lie, then leaned closer. “But sometimes the best thing to do is get away from everything. Clear your head. You need to be with someone who understands and won’t judge you.”

He noticed the uncertainty in her eyes, the fleeting doubt, aware of the risky game he was engaged in. Unfamiliar with him, she was so consumed by her pain that she accepted his presence without hesitation. He could promise her the world, claim he could help her heal, and she would trust him wholeheartedly.

“You want to get out of here? Get some fresh air?” he asked softly, tilting his head to the side.This is the moment. Make her feel like she’s making a choice.

She stared at him, a silent battle playing behind her eyes. Then, just as he expected, she nodded. She was too broken to care anymore, too lost in the aftermath of rejection.

He stood, reaching out a hand. “Come on. I know a place nearby where you can relax. I promise you won’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just hang out, if you like.”

She took his hand, and he felt a brief flash of victory—more than enough to conceal the excitement building in his chest.

He led her out of the coffee shop, and for just a moment, he pretended to be the good guy, the shoulder to cry on. In a few minutes, it wouldn’t matter. He’d take her where no one could hear her scream, where he could finally take control.

For now, though, he was her knight in shining armor. Hecouldbe that for a little while.

Just a little while.

“I’m Daniel, by the way.” Daniel smiled and offered her one hand as he steered the car with the other. “Daniel Pruett.”

The woman sniffed, wiped her eyes and nose with a Kleenex, and weakly shook his hand. “Mary… Muffet,” she whispered with a rasp.

Little Miss Muffet.

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