Allison's POV
I sit, waiting endlessly for Jessica, but she's nowhere to be found. The minutes drag on, every second stretching like a taut wire about to snap. Dread coils tight in my stomach. My gut tells me what I've been refusing to admit: Darius has played me. I can practically feel the weight of his manipulation. Jessica must be in his grip now, possibly held captive, and I'm lying here like a fool while he haggles for ransom with her father.
Darius was here not long ago, standing at the foot of my bed, that smug, predatory smile barely contained. He promised me I'd see Jessica if I gave him a detailed account of our conversation afterward. As if that mattered. He's probably got eyes on me right now—hidden cameras in every corner, watching my every move, recording my desperation. He doesn't need my words. He just enjoys twisting the knife, savoring how far he can push me.