“You have a crush on someone?” August echoed.“Yes.” She hiccupped. “Charles. Sadie’s fiancé. That man…” She laughed, then suddenly broke into tears. “I’m horrible, right? The worst woman alive.”She covered her face, sobbing. “My life is a joke. I loved my fiancé. I really did.”August felt his throat tighten. “My girlfriend died too,” he whispered. “Nine days ago.”Natasha looked up, tears streaking her mascara. “We’re both cursed then,” she said bitterly. “I would’ve killed myself… but I just realized I’m still a virgin.”August let out a broken laugh — and then, quietly, he started to cry.Seeing that she had him where she wanted, Natasha buried her face in her hands… and cried harder.“Will you let me die a virgin?”“You’re not dying,” August said, meeting her eyes. “We’re going to survive this together.”“Are you in need of a one-night stand?” she asked, voice trembling.“No. I can’t do t

Sadie checked her phone again.She’d replayed the woman’s message more than ten times, but it still didn’t make sense. The woman suddenly backing out — the rumors that Roger was the one who murdered Cox — none of it added up.Her mind whispered Charles’ name, but she pushed it away. He couldn’t have done this… not without telling her first.She dialed Thomas.“I just saw your message,” she said smoothly. “Something about Cox’s death?”“Yeah,” Thomas replied. “But you don’t need to worry anymore. I was going to ask about the last time you saw him, but we’ve already got the culprit.”“And… Roger?”Thomas hesitated. “I’m not supposed to be disclosing that to you yet, but I’ll brief you later. By the way, is Charles home?”“Not yet.”“Alright. I was thinking about a double date, but I’ll check your schedule later. Gotta go for now.” He hung up.At the other end, Thomas stared at the board in front of hi

“You know you’re not sounding like a cop right now,” Charles said.“As long as Sadie’s cleared, I don’t care how we get there,” Thomas said slowly. “Frame him, set it up—whatever. He’s well-connected; he’ll figure his way out or dig to find who really pulled the strings. He could help expose the real players.”“Sadie’s got people who can be twisted for her,” Charles said, flat.“That’s why you should decide what you want with her,” Thomas said, watching Charles carefully. “Because so far, you don’t seem like the sort of man who sticks around for nothing.”Thomas reached for his boots. “My boots?” he asked, already heading for the door.“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Charles asked, falling into step behind him. “The shoes are by the front door.”“I don’t know what you think about cops,” Thomas said, “but I guess you’ve been underestimating them. Work first — then we get the bastard who did this.”“Did you see his fac

Charles found himself inside some warehouse. Ridiculous? Absolutely. And to make it worse, he was standing in the middle of a room full of men whose entire life seemed to revolve around building abs — and flaunting them like trophies. All of them had stripped off their shirts. Charles just stood there, torn between being amused and wondering if he was supposed to feel intimidated. What the hell is going on here? “By the time we’re done with you today, you’ll regret ever living,” one of them swore, flexing his muscles. “You’ll look back at the day your mother realized she was pregnant with you and cry blood for letting her give birth to you.” “If you can apologize, we might go easy on you, though,” another said, flexing. Charles just stared, wondering if that was supposed to intimidate him. “Look at him… acting like a dumb idiot,” one spat. “He must think we’re going to take it lightly with him,” another added. “Get on your knees first,” one barked. “I’m pissed you’re just stand

“I’m really sorry, Roger. I promise it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to do it.”Roger smiled faintly, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Emmy, what makes you an adult is admitting your mistakes,” he said softly — the kind of softness that disarms you before it cuts. “I don’t want to date a kid. And if we look at this carefully…” he paused, pretending to think, “it’s all your fault.”Her eyes widened. “My fault?”“That night,” he continued calmly, “if you had just called me — maybe once, maybe twice — I might not have even met Cox.”She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a finger.“That’s what mature girlfriends do,” he said, voice low, persuasive. “They check on their men. Even if I don’t answer, you call again. Once, twice, three times. That’s how you show love.”“Wouldn’t that annoy you?” she asked quietly.He chuckled softly. “Annoy me? No, babe. I’d love it.” He leaned in closer, feigning a small laugh. “I can’t believe I’m even explaining this. It’s common sense — or i