Zane watched the rise and fall of Aria’s chest, a predator studying its prey. He couldn’t deny the disturbing fascination he felt for her, but it wasn’t love. It was a twisted sense of possession, fueled by his desire for revenge.
His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, a gesture that felt more intrusive than comforting. He reveled in the power he held over her, in her complete vulnerability.
The car lurched to a stop, jolting him from his dark thoughts. He carefully lifted the unconscious Aria into his arms, a sick sense of fulfillment washing over him.
When he reached his apartment, he moved through the dimly lit hallway and pushed open the bedroom door, laying her gently on the bed.
This wasn’t about love or protecting her. This was revenge. Aria was a pawn, a mean
