Dafne White's POV
He crosses his arms and looks at me seriously, firmly, angrily.
Him angry? Damn womanizer!
He doesn't care about anything; everything he does is just for his benefit; he's an i***t. I don't want to see him; he just makes me want to scream at him.
I'm very angry; I feel embarrassed for believing I was part of a special group, that I was one of the select women he noticed, that the palpable tension in the air meant something.
“I'm listening.”
He's not going to force me to tell him anything; he’s not going to make me stay in a room with him.
“I don't want to talk to you, Logan Bruce Wallace. If you don't let me out, I'll scream,” he laughs ironically.
“I deserve a damn explanation! What the hell is going on, Dafne? Explain it to me,” I roll my eyes. “I didn’t do anyt
