Scarlett’s pov
The room was freezing.
The metal chair was cold.
The floor was cold.
Even the lamp above me looked like it hated warmth.
Everything in that room was ice…
except me.
My skin still felt like it was on fire from Damon’s touch.
Too warm.
Too real.
Too dangerous.
My brain kept replaying the moment he almost kissed me —
his breath mixing with mine,
his eyes glued to my lips,
his hand gripping the back of my chair like he’d break the whole building if he let go.
I should’ve been panicking.
But nope.
Not even a little.
Which honestly terrified me more.
But when I finally saw the little blinking camera that was at one corner of the room. Something inside of my head clicked.
Oh right.
Wake up, Scarlett.
I wasn’t just some girl strapped to a chair.
I was a hack
