The night was colder than usual, even inside the comfort of Emily’s luxurious home. The wind rattled softly against the tall glass windows, but it wasn’t the weather that sent chills down her spine. It was the look Mr. Johnson had given her at dinner, too calm, too calculating. She sat by the fire, her wine untouched. Every flicker of the flame reminded her of the heat she and Adam had shared, the forbidden touches, the whispered promises. But tonight, all of that felt fragile. The illusion of safety was breaking. When her phone buzzed, she jumped. It was a message from Adam. Adam: Are you alright? Her fingers trembled as she typed back. Emily: He’s starting to suspect something. There was a long pause before his reply came. Adam: What did

