Desmond Loupé
“This is ridiculous,” Cassandra stood in the living room, her hands firmly planted on her hips, a scowl darkening her features.
“Maybe,” Desmond shrugged, stepping into the room and placing their bags down with a soft thud. “But when it comes to your safety, none of us are risking it.”
Pouting, Cassandra turned away from him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. The posture was defensive, but there was a faint glimmer of something softer in her eyes. Desmond couldn’t help but smile to himself. Normally, Cassandra was a fortress—guarded, ruthless, calculating. She didn’t show much emotion, but since he had taken care of her, revealed his true nature to her, she had slowly begun to let her walls down. It warmed his heart to see that, to witness the slow crack in her arm
