Sinfully His: Craving The Devil's Son
"If we miss the window before the morning shift change at the state border checkpoint, we’re trapped in this sector."
As he raised his left hand to look at his watch, the bright morning sun hit the metallic casing. I blinked, my vision adjusting to the glare. It was a classic Rolex, the one I’d bought him for his twenty-fifth birthday. But as he turned his wrist back down, a tiny, unnatural glint caught my attention on the underside of the leather strap.
It was a tiny, rectangular bump, no bigger than a grain of rice, embedded right into the stitching near the buckle. It had a microscopic, pulsing red light that was almost invisible unless you were looking for it from exactly my angle.
Bab Populer