Noah: Shouldn’t we invite Vitaly to the group chat?
Callum: Is Reid gonna be in here?
Elliot: One thing at a time. Family night with Vitaly.
Me: I’m baiting Reid now. TTyL
I put the phone down. Pick up the second notebook.
Oksana. Timelines. Surveillance.
Russian names circled, a few question marks, arrows connecting Krestov to Volkov.
Bingo.
That’s why you’re following me.
I’m work. I’m a goddamn case file.
How fucking dare you.
And why is that the hottest thing I’ve ever read?
I scan it.
Nothing interesting.
Just enough breadcrumbs to prove I’m the cookie he can’t stop chasing.
But. Oksana in two of men’s lives?
Bitch is done.
Third notebook?
Jackpot.
Header: Juliet Lovelace.
Page after page of me.
Sleeping. Laughing. Bent over the kitchen counter while Callum fucks me from behind. Timestamped photos. Lipstick swatches. One page just says ‘mine’ written over until the pen tore through the paper.
He’s going to fuck me into a religious experience.
On the car? You naughty boy.
With cuffs.
Then I see it.
Tucked in the back.
Noah’s schedule. Orion’s gym routine. Elliot’s office hours. Callum’s warehouse address.
He’s not just tracking me. He’s tracking all of them.
I go very still.
