Bryan’s pov
I slammed the door shut behind me so hard that the frame cracked. One of the glass panels by the window shuddered and then gave way, a long, sharp shard of it embedded itself into the side of my arm.
I didn’t feel it.
Couldn’t feel anything.
The blood trickled freely, a deep crimson line trailing down my wrist and onto the expensive marble floor, but all I saw in my head was her face—standing there, defiant as ever, practically laughing in my face while Enzo bought her like she was a prized jewel.
Lisa.
That name was starting to itch under my skin, claw at my pride, burn through my thoughts.
I grabbed the edge of my desk and flipped it over with one hand. The heavy oak slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch, the contents scattering—papers, liquor bottles, and an
