Allyson's POV
Michael's fingers wrapped around my wrist like a steel trap as he hauled me through the hotel corridor. His grip burned against my skin, and waves of fury rolled off him in dangerous currents. I bit back any protest, sensing that one wrong word might shatter whatever control he had left. This wasn't like before when he'd gotten upset about Kenneth at the conference. This was darker, more volatile, and it was aimed directly at me.
He shoved me into his suite and the door crashed shut behind us. The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. Michael began pacing like a caged predator, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. When he finally stopped and turned those storm-dark eyes on me, I felt a chill run down my spine.
"You had absolutely no right to embarrass me in front of everyone like that," I snapped, my own temper flaring to life. I straightened my shoulders and met his glare head-on. "I don't belong to you, Michael. This possessive act stops right now."
