3RD PERSON POV
The note had been slipped onto her desk as though it belonged there. No envelope, no signature—just neat, deliberate handwriting:
“I would like to continue my treatment privately. Payment made in full. Address attached.”
Vivienne stared at it for a long moment, her stomach tightening. She knew before she even saw the scrawled address whose name was behind it. Dante.
By the time she signed out of the hospital, dusk was painting the sky in slow bruises of purple and orange. She told herself it was only professional—patients had home care all the time. Yet her pulse betrayed her, quickening with every mile toward his house.
When the door swung open, he was already smiling, a predator who knew his prey had walked willingly into the trap.
“It was very easy to get you to my
