Chapter 27
Viola tiptoed toward the door like she was auditioning for a spy movie.
Mack’s house was quiet. Too quiet.She paused by the hall, listening, holding her shoes in one hand like a thief. She was still in his T-shirt and leggings, hair in a frizzy bun, makeup smudged from the night before — basically, the picture of sneaky morning-after glory.
“I am a ninja,” she whispered to herself, slipping her foot into her sneaker and wincing as it squeaked.
Meanwhile…
In his home office upstairs, Mack leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee, watching her live on the security feed like she was his favorite morning show.
He smirked.
Viola reached for the front door, only to freeze when she noticed something.A tiny black camera mounted just above the porch light.
Her face dropped.
