The Fallen Angel : Cold hearted Alpha
Sandra paced her opulent room, the plush carpet muffling her agitated footsteps. The moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains, casting an eerie glow on her surroundings. She clutched her phone, waiting impatiently for the call she had placed to connect. Finally, a deep, gravelly voice answered, breaking the silence.
"What is it, Sandra?" the voice growled, laced with impatience and anger.
Sandra's lips curled into a sneer. "It's Andrea," she spat, unable to mask the venom in her tone. "That pathetic human is ruining everything. She was never supposed to be Luna. That position was meant for me."
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