Elliot’s POV
“I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to my wife,” I practically barked as Rebecca grabbed my arm and pulled me away from her apartment door and outside. I was a lot stronger than her and if I truly wanted to, I could prevent her from taking me anywhere and barge into her apartment without a second thought.
I knew Silver was there; I could smell her as easily as if she was right next to me. I could also smell her misery and her sadness, and I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her that I was hers and nobody else’s. I wasn’t Shirley’s mate; I wasn’t Shirley’s anything. At one point, I thought she was my friend, but I’m realizing I was delusional. She wasn’t my friend; friends don’t pull s**t like this. I was so furious with her that I’d been ignoring her phone
