Tempting The Devil’s Son
She had spent the day stabbing her best friend in the back, yet the second the blood spilled onto her own dress, she played the broken victim.
Dario jerked forward, instinct driving him to run after his little mistress, but he froze midway across the polished marble floor.
The tension in the room stretched razor-thin. Slowly, he turned back around, his eyes burning with a desperate defiance.
He closed the space between us, his designer shoes clicking sharply against the floor.
“Since when are you a man of so many words, Roman?" he spat, his voice trembling under a pathetic attempt at bravado.
“Lest I forget, you barely even acknowledge my existence.”