SERAPHINA’S POV
Even after I slid into Lucian’s car and buckled my seatbelt, my hands were still trembling from my fury.
My nails bit into my palms, and the air inside the sleek interior felt too warm, too tight, even as he turned on the air conditioning.
Lucian glanced over as he pulled into traffic, his hands steady on the wheel.
“You’re fuming,” he noted with a small smirk, the dash lights casting a soft glow over his sharp features.
“Of course I am. That idiot was leering at me like I was some—some MILF from his high school daydreams,” I muttered.
“And Kieran strangled a fucking kid!” I shook my head. “Old enough to be his mother,” I muttered bitterly. “Yeah, if I got pregnant at like 12!”
Lucian chuckled. Fucking chuckled.
I shot him a sharp look.
He held up one hand, palm facing me. “I’m not laughing at what happened. Just at the idea that you still don’t see what everyone else does.”
“Which is?” I asked flatly.
