Mia’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She stood in her apartment, staring at her phone like it might explode. The screen showed Damien’s contact information. His name. His number. The photo she’d saved of him from the company website because she didn’t have any real pictures.
She pressed call.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
She hung up and tried again.
Straight to voicemail this time.
“Damn it,” she whispered. Her voice sounded thin and brittle in the empty apartment. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
She tried texting instead. Her fingers fumbled over the keys.
“Viktor wants to see me. Tonight. 7pm. I’m scared.”
The message sat there with one gray checkmark. Not delivered. Not read. Just floating in digital limbo like everything else in her life right now.
Mia looked at t
