AYLA
Don Cassian threw me on my back on the bed.
I crawled back on both hands, watching his gaze burn like the flames of hell into my skin.
"You fucking want to be disrespected like Mila?"
He didn't shout.
But his voice sounded like he was an immortal demanding an account for a mortal's life.
"I never said I wanted to be disrespected like Mila. I said to fucking kiss me like you kiss her."
The moment the words were out, I knew I sounded stupid.
Maybe being locked up in a hospital for a month finally made me dense.
Don Cassian gave me a spiteful look, rubbing his lips. "Insecurity issues?"
With a clench of my teeth, I pushed the fantasy in my blood away.
The damn hypocrite.
"Don't tell me you have hypocrisy issues," I huffed with equal sass.
"You entertain women dressed like Mila but can't handle me dressed that way," I hissed. "Pathetic double standards."
His eyes went black with bitterness and disgust—and that inhumane look.
My mouth was going to be the end of me.
