Messiah's Possession
“See? Better?”
I choked back a sob, hugging her tight. “Yes, baby. Much better.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Messiah leaning against the doorway, watching us. His expression softened at the sight, but behind his gaze was steel—like he was already plotting a war.
That night, the mansion felt heavier. Messiah gathered his men in the study, the air thick with tension. I stayed outside the half-open door, listening.
“We need more eyes on the perimeter,” one guard said.
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