Marco’s POV
From Afar, I watched Elara fumble in search of her keys. Frustrated, she slammed her forehead with her palm.
I scoffed, finding humor in her clumsiness. As if she heard me, she spun in my direction. Effortlessly, I slid to a side, blending my black attire with the darkness that loomed.
Bored, I played with the handle of the dagger in my gloved hand. When I followed her down here, I had hoped to slit the throat and spread the guts of her lover like peanut butter. Instead of going to him, or the client she was dressed to service, she came home. Perhaps she was terrified for one night.
My jaws clenched. They wouldn't be this lucky next time. Matter of fact, every f*****g dickhead that had touched her would pay for their sins.
The creaking sound of her door drew my attent
