Author’s POV:
The message glowed on the screen, a digital snare.
Selene: “You’re going to have to come delete this yourself, Mr. Lancaster.”
“This b***h,” Lancaster muttered, the words a low growl in the silence of his office. He dropped the phone onto the polished wood as if it were venomous, then pressed the heels of his palms against his temples, staring at the words until they blurred.
He dragged his hands down his face, a gesture of pure, exhausted frustration.
And then—-
*BAM!*
His fist slammed onto the desk, making the phone jump. The sudden violence did nothing to quiet the storm in his head.
With a jerky motion, he yanked open a drawer, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a sharp flick of his lighter. He took a long, desperate drag, holding the smoke in his lungs befo
