MARCO’S POV

It had barely been an hour since Melissa checked into the hotel when my phone buzzed. The notification made my chest tighten before I even looked at the screen. I knew what it was.

It was him—the guy Louis had arranged to “help stage” the shots.

My thumb hesitated over the screen, but curiosity and dread forced me to open the message.

There they were.

The first photo was grainy, taken with the faint glow of the hotel room light. Melissa was sitting on the ...