Page 33 of Desperate Crimes

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And fuck, but if he’s the one behind this?

If he’s the one who’s finally come for me?

Then maybe—maybe—this isn’t a nightmare.

Maybe this is my chance.

To stop pretending.

To stop being perfect.

To stop hiding.

Maybe this is my story.

And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to be rescued.

Chapter Eight-Nico Jr

She’s alert.

So fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her.

But I do.

I can’t not look at her.

I just watch her from behind the screen, mesmerized as she takes it all in.

Her fear is outweighed by her curiosity.

My Princess has more spark than I knew.

And I like it.

Yeah, I fucking like it a lot.

I can see it in the flicker of her dark lashes, the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes dart across the room like she’s calculating every possible exit.

Smart girl.

But she won’t find one.

Not here. Not now. Not until I allow it.

I lean forward in my chair, eyes locked on the central monitor in front of me.

The entire estate is wired with the best surveillance tech money, and power can buy.

Sigma International, of course, with all the new advances brought to it by Callahan Group and the genius of Balor Cruz, Lucy Volkov’s new husband.

It’s all hooked up and working as it should—hidden, seamless, untouchable.

No angles missed. No blind spots.

She’ll never see them, but I see everything.

And right now?

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