Shayna
Nausea rolled in my stomach and bile burned the back of my throat. I would never, ever touch this man again. I would never sleep with him willingly in my life again. I balled my fists and snarled.
"Over my dead body," I growled.
"That can be arranged," Derek sounded, as if none of this bothered him. He was psychotic. He's absolutely lost it. I guess that the kind of power that money and status can hold over you. It can poison your mind and do things most sane and normal people could never even fathom doing. Derek held the gun up in the light and wiped an imaginary smudge away. He made sure to bulge his arms out in a show of strength. Pathetic. He was posturing, trying to intimidate me. But if I knew Derek, then I knew that none of this was an act. He would make good on his word
