ZLATA’S POV
My hands trembled with barely concealed rage as I fished my phone out of my clutch and placed a call through. “I’m coming over.” I spat without waiting for a response, I hung up.
“Take me to his apartment,” I instruct the driver as he sped downtown.
That bitch.I thought to myself as I replayed Serafina’s words to me. She doesn't know him the way I do. She hadn't watched him lose it when the memories/nightmares hit. She hadn't comforted him when he spiraled after his mum's death. She hadn't waited in silence for years, letting him go and come as he pleased because deep down I thought he would choose me. I believed I was the only one who could handle all of him—his rage, his cruelty, and his rare softness.
Adrik and I go way farther than New York. We had grown up together
