Elizabeth POV
Christian had told me to bake him cookies and bring them to his office this morning.
He’d been… different lately. Not cold, not cruel—just oddly attentive. Calling me Red for reasons he refused to explain. And then there was the box he’d given me two nights ago, sitting smugly on my nightstand—a box containing a single red thong. He’d asked if it “rang a bell,” as though I was supposed to have some epiphany.
I didn’t.
I had a few red thongs, yes, but I was certain he’d stolen this one from my closet if it wasn’t the one he removed from my ass.
And the way he kept asking about my first time—as if he could hear the truth I wasn’t telling—it made my pulse race in a way I hated admitting.
My feelings for him hadn’t lessened, not even slightly. Every time I promised myself I
