Stephen’s POV:
“Boss!”
Celine nervously yells after unbuttoning and pulling Cloette’s polo from her body. The shaking pupils of her eyes contract as she looks at me. Impatient with her words, I stride to the bedside, closer to Cloette. A faint, short gasp takes flight from me when my sight lays on Cloette’s left neck. A bite mark gloats itself to me. With the lack of restrain, my teeth grit, my fists clutch and my body firms. Anger whisks my blood, then tears my calmness.
“Everybody get out! Now!”
For a second, nobody moves as if my voice isn’t loud enough to be heard. But when my glare leaves the bite mark and strikes each and everyone of them, they scamper to their feet like poor, spineless rats. When they're out of my sight and the door clicks close, the first thing I do is to ease
