Scarlett’s POV
I always believed trouble had a personality.
Bold.
Loud.
Annoying.
And for some reason—obsessed with me.
But tonight?
Trouble showed up wearing a full tuxedo, holding a knife, and dragging danger by the hand.
Because tonight… I made the stupidest mistake of my entire twenty-three years on this planet.
I hacked the wrong server.
I sat in my apartment. It was dim except for the soft glow of my monitor in front of me. Wires. Empty coffee cups. And half open notebooks that covered my desk like it was confetti made by stressed out gremlins. I sat in an oversized hoodie. My hair was in a wild bun. My eyes were glued on the screen.
“Come on,” I whispered to my laptop like it was a moody friend. “Don’t freeze now. Open the file. I believe in you.”
The fan hummed loudly.
