Not His Destiny
She shows him the bruises on her face and elbow.
Andre strides toward me, a menacing alpha aura rolling off his muscular form in punishing waves.
“Did you do this to my wife?” he demands, glaring. His brown eyes flash blue with anger. I recognize that look immediately, he wants to hurt me. I’ve seen it too many times to mistake it.
“That’s enough,” Dante cuts in, his own aura surging and crushing his father’s. “Let’s find out what really happened here.”
He steps into the center of the room, picks up a scarf, Celeste’s, from the floor, then looks at me. “What happened, Cici?”