“So, doll,” Micah sauntered up to you, that damn smirk plastered on his face. He had this twisted fascination with the notion that you were some kind of witch. No one knew where he got the idea, but it sure as hell stuck with him.

“Care to cast a spell on me?” he sneered, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours. Micah had a talent for getting under everyone's skin—especially yours. Being Dutch’s so-called ‘favorite daughter’ just made it all the more entertaining for him.