The call came at 11:47 p.m. on a Tuesday.
I was already half-asleep, tangled in John’s arms, one of his heavy thighs draped over both of mine, his breath warm against the back of my neck. The sharp buzz of my phone on the nightstand cut through the quiet like a blade. John groaned, tightening his hold for a second before reluctantly letting me reach for it.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the preview of the text that followed the missed call.
Unknown: He’s going to ruin you the same way he ruined me. Ask him about Miami. Ask him about the night Sophia almost died because of him. Sleep tight, Mrs. Larry.
My blood turned to ice.
John felt the change in my body instantly. He sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist, dark eyes sharpening in the low light. “Lucy? What i
