Chapter 82: Mason's Tragedy
(Scarlet's POV)
Mason's cold fingers lingered on the curve of my neck, the touch deliberate and nauseating. I jerked my head away sharply, breaking the contact.
"Watch your hands, Mason," I said, my voice like ice. "Unless you want that expensive shirt dyed a permanent shade of green."
Mason didn't get angry. Instead, he smiled, a sly, twisted expression that didn't reach his eyes. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.
"Do you think you being left alone out here is just Damon using you as bait to draw me out?"
I stared straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking at him.
"You have a vivid imagination," I replied coldly. "You'd make a good director."
"You think so too," Mason whispered, his smile deepening.
I did
