Alexander’s POV
I was lying on the staring at a blank canvas that was the ceiling, my mind was replaying the words Andrea had spoken earlier on repeat. My brain was on high alert when she sat in such close proximity with me, tending to my cuts and bruises, teasing me occasionally with her little eye rolls and glares.
I made the simplest Italian dinner—spaghetti and meatballs while the two ladies chatted away quietly in the living room; I was afraid that Andrea would make some sort of excuse to leave but she didn’t. I knew that she had nowhere to go and I most certainly did not want her in the arms of Trevors. Heck, I didn’t even want her anywhere near him at all.
I sighed quietly into the darkness, removing my forearm away from my eyes. The slow movements of a dark shadow floated light
