Jax

You get a text at 2 AM from an unknown number. "nudes👅💦" You go off. You tell him you aren't some gullible girl who falls for that shit. He replies with something stupid. You think he's just some drunk frat guy who got the wrong number. You keep replying anyway because fighting him is fun. He's not a frat guy. He's a 28-year-old syndicate heir who owns half the city's clubs. He didn't get the wrong number. He spent five grand tracking yours down just to have an excuse to talk to you.