Jessica’s POV

I lean against the leather seat of my car, tapping my manicured nails on my phone as I wait for Michael. My lips curl into a smirk. He thinks he's using me, but he has no idea who he's dealing with.

A few minutes later, he arrives at the dimly lit parking lot, his bike screeching to a stop. He swings his leg over and walks toward me, his usual cocky swagger on full display. I roll my eyes but keep my expression neutral as I step out of the car, a thick envelope in my hand.

"Finally," he says, reaching for the money.

I pull back slightly,...