Page 106 of Villainous Intent

“You went through my phone,” I accused.

“I go through everything. It’s a character flaw. But Tech Support? I expected something with a bit more venom.”

“I work in the Tower,” I snapped. “I can’t exactly have Villain or Cipher sitting in my recent calls. But if it offends your massive ego, I can always change it to my first choice.”

Cipher arched a dark brow. “Which was?”

“Asshole.”

He chuckled. “Accurate. But lacking creativity.”

“Fine. Since you’re the pinnacle of creative genius, what am I saved as in your phone?”

Cipher didn’t answer right away. He just watched me, his gaze dropping to my mouth before dragging slowly back up to my eyes. My insecurities rushed in to fill the quiet. I knew exactly what I was to him. A pawn. A game. A warm body he could bend to his will.

“Let me guess,” I said, looking away from the intensity of his stare. “Hostage. Collateral Damage. Annoyance. Whore. Or maybe just a blank space, because I’m expendable the second I stop being entertaining.”

Cipher’s thumb stopped moving on my hip and his fingers dug in. I snapped my attention back to his face and saw that the amusement was gone, replaced by a deep frown.

“Sparks,” he said. The word was flat, almost a reprimand.

I blinked, the anger leaking out of my sails. “What?”

“You are in my phone as Sparks.”

I stared at him, my brain stalling. It wasn’t an insult. It wasn’t a degrading designation or a dismissive joke. “Why Sparks?”

His thumb resumed its slow stroke against my skin. “Because our first real interaction ended with you using that cuff to shock me off a fucking building. And,” Cipher leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, “given the way the tattoos on my skin light up the second you touch me... The name continues to track.”

I had expected cruelty and braced for some mocking reminder of what I was expected to be to him. Instead, he had given me a nickname that was surprisingly affectionate.

It also made me deeply uncomfortable.

“So, while you were violating my privacy, did you find anything interesting in my phone?” I asked, my voice dripping with as much annoyance as I could muster. “Were you just riveted by my personal planner apps? Fascinated by my grocery lists?”

“I found texting Dawn to be highly educational.”

My stomach plummeted. “You texted Dawn?”

“I did,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. “In fact, your plans for the evening have changed. Dawn invited you to Luciano’s at eight and I accepted on your behalf.”

“I can’t go to Luciano’s.” I twisted against his grip. “We have a required event tonight and the Alliance expects me to be there hunting the rogue.”

“The Alliance expects Keeper Bishop to do what she’s told,” Cipher corrected. “But this is my career, Annie, and I’ve decided I don’t want my plaything present tonight.”

Plaything.

The word scraped against my nerves. A second ago, I was Sparks. A second ago, there was a hint of possessive warmth in his voice. Now, I was just a toy. A prop he could bench whenever he didn’t want to play with it.

“You’re going to use this evening to lie to Dawn,” Cipher continued, oblivious or uncaring about the whiplash he was putting me through. “You need to explain where you’re going to be for the foreseeable future.”

He reached into his suit, pulled out my phone, and turned the screen toward me.

I stared at the text chain, immediately annoyed. He hadn’t just sent a generic agreement to meet up. He’d used emojis. He’d used my specific, habitual sequence of the sparkling heart and the wine glass.

Dawn

Can’t wait! Need drinks and details!