Tatiana’s POV

“You can’t be serious.”

The words left me before I could stop them, sharp as glass.

I rose from the velvet chair in the sitting room, heels clicking against the marble as I crossed

toward him.

Zayne stood rigid near the fireplace, jaw clenched, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he

was bracing himself against me.

He had always been beautiful when angry, dark eyes stormy, lips pressed into a hard line but

tonight, I wanted to rip that calm from his face.

“You came ...