Azeelia Cole
My reflection in the full-length mirror looked like a stranger.
I wore an emerald silk slip dress that fell just below my knees, a tailored black trench coat over my shoulders, and simple gold hoops. I had spent nearly forty minutes doing my makeup, carefully smudging dark eyeliner along my lashes.
My stomach churned with a wild, dizzying nausea.
I kept telling myself this was purely investigative. I needed to put a face to the anonymous voice that had wormed its way into my head. I needed to look Viper_00 in the eye and close the chapter on this bizarre, encrypted obsession.
But as I dabbed perfume onto the hollow of my throat, the lie felt paper-thin.
I wasn't dressing for an interview. I was dressing for a man. An anonymous stranger who had coaxed out my darkest confe
