Page 8 of Fatal Scheme

“Jasper? He lets you call him by his real name?” I laugh, not even able to remember the last time I heard someone dare to use his full name.

“He doesn’t let me call him anything, and I don’t want him following me anymore,” she says sternly, rage building behind her eyes as if this conversation is physically painful for her.

“Sorry, but if you want Massi to leave you alone, you’ll have to deal with him yourself,” I tell her, shrugging my shoulders and leaning back in my chair.

“For fuck’s sake, you’re useless,” she quips, rolling her eyes just as the Professor steps to his podium and greets the class.

She starts to stand up, grabbing her bag, but I wrap my hand around her arm, looking directly into her eyes.

“Sit down, Carter,” I say, the darkness in my voice taking over, and her mouth pops open, even if only slightly, and rather than snarking back she does what she’s told, albeit with an annoyed look painted on her face.

“I never told you my name,” she whispers, keeping her focus on the teacher, and her eyes averted from mine.

“No you didn’t, and that was pretty rude, actually,” I mimic her sass, and I swear, a stifled laugh echoes between us, a minuscule giggle that could only be heard because we’re sitting so close.

“You and your little friend are going to be the death of me,” she groans, her sassy little attitude lighting a fire inside me in ways I never knew were possible.

I just know she’d be a brat, and there’s nothing more fun than breaking that spirit, something I’d love to fuck right out of her.

“Oh, but what a way to go, don’t you think, Stellina?” I fire back, and her eyes widen, a smart ass remark right on the tip of her tongue.

“What is it with the two of you and stupid nicknames? I’m not yours, and I’m certainly not your little star.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest with an expression on her face that I can’t quite read.

“You speak Italian? Impressive.” I poke her arm, attempting to rile her up a little more, and the second my finger connects with her body, I’m electrified, my heart racing against my chest like a beating of drums.

“Here and there. It’s a fascinating language,” she answers, and for the first time, her voice sounds genuine.

“It’s called the language of love for a reason,” I tease, and she rolls her eyes once more, the moment gone as fast as it came.

I’m quite literally flirting with danger, because if Massi found out I was even breathing near this girl, he’d chop me into little pieces and scatter my guts across the country.

Even so, I can’t stop myself, desperate to keep trading barbs with the smart ass girl beside me.

“Are you hitting on me, Tyson?” She asks, batting her eyelashes as she rests her elbow on the table, looking directly into my eyes.

“Depends, is it working?”

“Absolutely not,” she breathes, her cheeks turning bright red, and I know I’ve got her right where I want her.

“Don’t test me, Carter. You won’t like what I’ll have you begging for.” I lower my voice, inching even closer into her orbit until we’re nose to nose.

“You have no idea what I like,” she quips, her tongue darting out to lick her lower lip, and I’m so tempted to shove my fingers in her mouth, to test out whether or not she has a gag reflex.

Everything about this girl is dangerous, I can feel the risky energy radiating off her perfect little body, but I’m not one to run away when things get a little scary.

“Don’t you worry, Stellina. One day I’ll find out.” I brush my thumb along her lips, trailing until I reach her jawline, and her eyes follow my fingers while her body trembles against the chair.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kelly, am I interrupting something?” The professor asks, ripping us both from the trance we were lost in, and all heads swivel in our direction.

“Actually, yes, but go ahead with your lesson, Sir,” I say sarcastically, and I sneak a peek at Carter, who’s attempting to mute her laughter with a hand clamped over her mouth.

For the rest of the lecture I leave her alone, but still taking every chance to study her as she shifts back into focus, taking meticulous notes on her laptop.

When she clicks out of the tab, I notice the background photo is of her, standing with a group of people, and finally, we have a break in Massi’s case.

Whatever she may, or may not be, hiding is on this laptop, and I know he’ll take what he needs, whether that be willingly, or forcefully.

The violence is escalating.