The way he says he wants me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, sends a ripple of awareness through me. But I shove it away, focusing on the goal of finishing this list of names.

“I’m here, right?” I ask.

“Yes, but I need to ensure that you come back. With that being said, I want you to construct a full psychological profile on me.”

I pause, my pencil hovering above the scrap of paper as I consider his request. And why he wants it. I can’t deny that studying Ghost on a deeper level appeals to me professionally. Not only because there’s never been another criminal like him and it’d be groundbreaking, but it would also elevate my career to be the one who profiled him.

On the other hand, spending more time with Ghost in any capacity is hazardous to me mentally and emotionally. I know he’s manipulating me and I can’t stop him, even when I clearly see the tactics he’s employing. Ghost knows too much about me, preventing me from creating an effective defense against him. But a profile on him could give me the upper hand.

I glance up at him. He’s watching me, his eyes glinting with amusement, like he knows exactly what’s going through my mind: the struggle between my professional curiosity and my instinct for self-preservation.

“I’ll do it, as long as you’re truthful during the assessment,” I say.

“Will do.” His smile widens. “It’s a date.”

“But,” I add quickly, “there will be limits.”

His brow arches. “Limits?”

“Three visits. That’s it,” I say firmly. “I’ll spend the time gathering the necessary data for your profile. After that, we’re done.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Three? You think you can figure me out in just three visits, Dr. Andrews? I’m impressed, truly.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do if you cooperate.”

Ghost’s smile fades as his eyes narrow. “Make it ten and we have a deal.”

Making it possibly months of seeing him? Hell no.

“Five,” I counter.

“Seven.”

“Five. Take it or leave it.”

He grins at me. “Deal. You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Andrews, but I won’t need all of them.”

“Excuse me?” I scrunch my face in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be out of here before then. And that’s when the fun really begins.”

CHAPTER 18

Geneva is drinking wine again.

Our visit earlier must’ve really fucked with her head. If she didn’t think I was actually capable of escaping prison, she wouldn’t be so stressed out.

I run my thumb over her image on my phone, wishing I was there with her. If I don’t deviate from my strategy, soon I won’t be wishing.

She’s sitting in her living room, dressed in sweatpants and a torn t-shirt, the light from her phone illuminating her face as she doomscrolls on social media. I watch her closely, the way she presses her lips together, the slight furrow in her brow. She’s the most beautiful and complex creature I’ve ever seen.

Unknown: Stay home tonight, Dr. Andrews.

I hit send. Watching Geneva in real time never fails to excite me. Her body tenses the moment her phone notifies her about the message. She swipes to read the text and her brows snap together. Confusion sweeps over her features, quickly followed by exasperation and a tiny bit of anger. She types something I can’t make out, and then pauses, her delicate fingers hovering over the keys before she erases everything.

Geneva purses her plush lips, sending my mind straight to the gutter. I can’t wait to shove my cock in her mouth, to feel her tongue circle the head before I thrust deep and make her choke—

She starts typing again, the rapid movement yanking me out of my fantasy. Wow, that was an ADD moment. Aaaaaand, I’m back.

Geneva: You might think you own me, but you’re wrong. I’ll prove it to you.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. She’s strong, I’ll give her that, but I know her better than she knows herself. And right now, my girl needs to learn that I always mean what I say.

Unknown: My darling doctor, I think you’ll want to listen this time. After all, I have your best interests at heart.

Geneva: You don’t have a heart.

Unknown: I did once. I think? In any case, be a good girl and stay home. I mean it.

Geneva: And if I don’t?

Unknown: Actions have consequences.

I keep my gaze fixed on Geneva, watching her reaction closely. Her chest rises and falls faster as my threat strikes home. She doesn’t move to respond, just sits there quietly contemplating her options. Defiance wars with deliberation. Fear battles with fury. It’s written all over her face.

That’s a good girl. Think it through.

Geneva: What type of consequences?

Unknown: Irreversible ones.

Her fingers fly over the screen as she types something quickly, her movements more aggressive now. The anger on her face is beautiful.

Geneva: Fuck you.

Unknown: Unfortunately, not tonight. But soon, I promise you.

I let a few seconds pass before sending my next message, savoring the tension between us. Fuck, the things this woman does to me.

Unknown: Enjoy your evening because I know I will.

Geneva: What are you going to do?

Geneva: You need to tell me.

I grin at that. She’s trying to convince herself that she’s still in charge by demanding things from me. It’s adorable, really. But it won’t work. She can’t control me, any more than I can control my obsession over her.

I look around my cell, the walls no more than a mirage of captivity. Perception is fluid and I’ve always been good at shaping others’ to my satisfaction. There’s power in it, and that’s something the Malone family has a lot of. Giulio Malone runs the largest crime syndicate on this side of the United States.

And since he works for me, his men do too.

My mind drifts to a year ago, when I first began my campaign against them.

“People have patterns, making them predictable and fucking boring. But chaos…?” I pause, briefly closing my eyes and inhaling a deep breath. “Chaos makes my dick hard.”

Daniel Malone watches me, his gaze never leaving the knife in my gloved hand even as I use the other to grab my cock through my pants. Smart man. It’s natural to follow movement with your eyes, but he’s fighting his instincts.

So am I, since he’s not dead.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Malone asks.

“What do I want? What do I want? What do I want?”

I toss the knife, pursing my lips in thought. His eyes follow the motions of the blade, finally unable to resist.

Up Up.

Down. Down.

“Danny boy, I don’t want anything. Not really. Do you know why?” When he shakes his head emphatically, I grin. He flinches at the sinister expression, and my smile widens. “Because I don’t let anything get in my way. Chaos breeds opportunity and I am a glutton for exploitation.”

I grab him by the throat. The black leather coating my fingers squeaks as I place the knife under his chin to lift it. Blade up. He grimaces when the metal slices into his skin, but he doesn’t cry out.

How disappointing.

“Tell me when and where the next shipment of diamonds will be.” I tighten my hold, forcing a grunt from him. “I know your family has cutting and polishing businesses throughout New York City. They won’t notice if a few shiny rocks go missing.”