She wasn’t the girl I meant to text. But she might be the one who ruins me. I thought I was messaging a girl from the bar—cute, sweet, the kind of woman you bring home to meet your mom. Instead, I got Indigo. She’s chaos in a red lip. Pinup curves, razor-sharp wit, and a dark streak that runs deeper than I ever expected. She’s not what I was looking for. But somehow, I can’t stop texting her. Can’t stop needing her. She makes me feel alive. Like I’m not just some forgettable guy floating through life. Then I see her in the woods. Blood on her hands. A dead woman at her feet. She says the woman deserved it. She says she did it for me. Now I know the truth: Indigo is dangerous. And I should walk away. But every time she whispers, I did it for you—I wonder if she’s not the one who needs saving… Or if it’s already too late for me.