Lia’s pov

Dante’s hold on my wrist felt overwhelming. His fingers pressed into my skin, firm, controlling. His entire body emitted tension, his chest elevating and lowering in deliberate, measured breaths. However, there was more than just anger in his gaze. It was a victory. Since he believed he had emerged victorious. “Did you genuinely believe you could escape from me permanently?” His voice was silky, yet beneath it lay something sinister. An achievement of triumph. I gulped ...