Chapter 3: Double Lives and Late-Night Calls

I scrolled through my online romance chat history with Nathan on my laptop, curled up in bed with a glass of wine.

The messages were all heart-racing, blush-inducing stuff—adults know the vibe, the kind you pray never get screenshotted.

Nathan had sent me more than a few post-gym thirst traps—his abs looked like they’d been sculpted by Michelangelo. He even started working out extra, just to keep up the supply.

In return, I’d sent him videos of me in everything from VS lace to Agent Provocateur, the lighting always soft, the vibe always dangerous.

I spent ten minutes eavesdropping outside Nathan’s room like a total creep, but the shower never stopped—he must’ve been ice-bathing his entire soul.

I shut my own door, wriggled back into the La Perla maid outfit, and fired up our encrypted app.

I hit video call.