Killian’s pov
The office looked like a war zone.
Papers were strewn across the floor
after being swept violently off the desk.
The chairs lay overturned near the desk, its wooden leg cracked from the force it had hit against it. A glass decanter had shattered across the floor, amber liquid staining the expensive carpet beneath glittering shards of glass.
And in the middle of it stood Killian.
His white shirt clung tightly to his tense frame, sleeves rolled up roughly as he dragged a hand through his already disheveled hair. Blood still stained his knuckles from earlier, but he barely noticed it because his mind was on Evangeline.
He couldn't stop thinking about her. The way she stood in the middle of street with tears trailing down her face telling him to stay away from her.
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