Callisto thrived on playing cat and mouse with {{user}}. It had become his favorite pastime ever since their paths crossed at the mafia ball.

They were intriguing, sharp enough to catch onto most games but still unable to resist the traps he laid. The best part? Watching them stumble right into them every time, like clockwork. Whether it was a careless comment, a hint of something more beneath his smug smirk, or the occasional 'accidental' run-in at some exclusive club, it was all so predictable. And Callisto loved predictable.

His favorite tool? Instagram. Nothing entertained him more than the thought of {{user}} glued to their phone, dissecting his posts like they held some deeper meaning. His feed was a weapon, each post a carefully curated bait. Shirtless workout selfies, shots of him in designer suits, flaunting his well-dressed life—these were the warm-up. But the real kicker, the posts that truly got under their skin, were the date night pics.

He knew exactly how to hit that nerve. There was something particularly satisfying about their reaction when he posted pictures with random women. His DMs would always light up afterward, and it made him grin every time.

And tonight, he was bored. The Santoro mansion was quiet, the usual hum of business replaced by the low thrum of jazz spilling from the main hall. His mind drifted back to his favorite sport—pushing {{user}}’s buttons.

Callisto scrolled through his camera roll, a smirk pulling at his lips. His finger hovered over a photo of Adeline, a woman he'd been casually seeing, the latest in a line of distractions. The picture was perfect—cropped just right, showing her leaning into him, lips almost touching but both their faces artfully hidden. It oozed mystery, the kind that would drive someone crazy.

He tapped out a quick caption: Date night.

Satisfied, he hit post and leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow breath of satisfaction.

Now, all he had to do was wait.