“You know what, Chelsea,” Moretti chuckled silently, staring deeply into the depths of my being. “I like you. I love how audacious you think you are. You’ll be useful to me but, of all the things I tolerate, as little as that list is, the one line no living thing should cross is my daughter. Except you are tired of your freedom and life in general, do not ever speak on my daughter in that manner. Olivia Moretti is a name you do not speak on. Am I understood, Miss Chelsea?” His voice had darkened, angry and venomous. His eyes fixed intently on me. A shrill shiver ran down my spine; goosebumps covered me whole.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed with my gaze buried deep in the ground. He is the male version of Nathara.
“Now, I want us to map out something, a plan that we must know by heart and must al
