Page 21 of Cyber Revenge

Lyd: Trouble.

Me: Good. Trouble makes the best kind of addiction.

I leave it there. Just enough.

She needs time to let it bloom.

To start thinking of me when the room is quiet. When the vibrator isn’t doing the trick. When Trip is off the grid.

Because hewillgo silent. Eventually.

Men like him always do.

And that’s when I’ll start turning the screws.

Later that night, I post a story, lying in bed, shirtless, one arm behind my head, with roses on the nightstand andhervoice memo playing in the background, just low enough that no one will recognize it.

Except Lydia.

Thirty minutes later, she replies with a flushed face emoji and a meme about ruining lives with bare chests.

She is still playing the field. Still snapping Trip.

I’m not stupid.

But I don’t need her to be loyal yet.

I just need her to keepopening the door.

Because once I’m inside?

I won’t be leaving.

THIRTEEN

LYDIA

Trip hasn't messaged me in ten days.

Not a word. Not a snap. Not even a half-assed emoji.

Just thirst traps.

Short, sharp bursts of visual violence, the flex of his jaw under that black tactical mask, the sound of leather gloves tightening, the hint of a hard chest glistening in low light. Always posted late at night. Always paired with captions like:

“You moan his name. But you come for mine.”

“You’ll beg when you’re ready to be used.”

Every single one of them left me aching. Wet. Cursing into my pillow with my fingers buried deep inside myself.

But not a single one has my name.

He’s vanished into that carefully controlled silence that feels like punishment, like he’s watching me spiral without ever lifting a finger.

But Patrick? Patrick is everywhere.

He texts every morning before I open my eyes.

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