ALLISON’S POV
A cold shiver skates down my spine as Black pins me with a hard glare, and I have to fight not to let my mask crack. For half a second, I actually thought his decent looks meant he’d be slower on the uptake but I guess that’s wishful thinking. Cute doesn’t equal stupid. Tragic.
Still, I’ve played worse roles than clueless flirt with zero survival instincts.
“Why would I lie about my name?” I ask, blinking up at him like the thought itself is exhausting. “You can call me Maddy, though.”
I twirl a strand of hair around my finger, my eyes drifting lazily over the knife embedded in the table like it’s nothing more than a dramatic centerpiece. Guys like him feed on fear and the moment he smells it, I’m done for.
Besides, if I’m going to get anything out of Black, I need him
