Marco's POV
Tick. Tock.
In my world, comfort was only for a moment, which was why I left Elara’s side to be here, in this dark underground.
It's been a week since Lucas's arrival in my private penthouse. Barely been fed, his awful odor slapped hard. His fat sweaty pores were sticky like glue.
I hated it. Hated that I had to leave Elara for this.
“I'd make it real quick,” I pulled a neat chair by the end and drew it in front of him, not so close for my sanity. “I've got better business to tend to.”
He rolled his thick head with lean jaws, trying to be stable. Since the incident, I had only fed him thrice, once in two days. Now, he was weak as f**k.
“Lucas, one more time, who the f**k sent you?”
“f**k you!” He cussed, his voice dry and weak.
I clenched my fist, ready to smack
