Death of an Alpha
Two guards pulled the gates open.
Maverick lowered me gently to the ground at last. His hand slipped around my waist, tugging me closer until I could feel the warmth of him against me. “Nowhere to run to now, darling,” he whispered, his lips brushing close to my ear before guiding me inside.
The entrance alone was enough to make me freeze in awe. A hall, larger than anything I could have dreamed off. Gold-framed paintings literally lined the walls, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Servants lined the sides, their heads bowed low, not daring to meet Maverick’s gaze.
Bab Populer