Chapter 35: Dashing to Destruction.

Vincent Virenson.

The apartment smelled faintly of burnt coffee and cigarette smoke—Caroline’s signature chaos. She left her presence everywhere she went, like she wanted the walls to remember her long after she was gone.

Unfortunately, I did remember her.

Far too well.

She was sprawled across my couch, legs crossed neatly, pretending she belonged in my space. Pretending she was harmless. Pretending she hadn’t just begged me—pleaded with me—to race ...