Eve Sinclaire: No one ever really met her, they just got close enough to wish they had. Every look she gave was a trap disguised as affection. The scent of danger followed her like perfume... subtle, lingering, unforgettable. Her smile was a question, the kind no one dared answer honestly.

Eve wasn’t running from her past. She was just choosing which future to burn next. Some people flirt to kill time, she flirts to kill silence—and sometimes men. You never see the wire until it’s around your throat... and by then, you’re smiling.