Lena’s pov
My spine still hasn’t stopped shaking. Not from the cold water drying in my hair. From him.
From Dante almost killing me.
I slide into the SUV without a word. The drive back takes forever. Forty minutes of nothing. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at me, doesn’t try to explain or apologize or even gloat.
Good. I have nothing to say to him either.
Why is he pissed? I’m the one who had a bullet tear past my skull. I should be the one shutting down.
We reach the estate gates. His house looms. The second the SUV stops, I’m out. I don’t wait for the door to be opened. I don’t look back.
Let him be mad. I did nothing wrong.
I take the stairs two at a time, slam my bedroom door hard enough that the frame rattles. f**k him.
My purse is still on the dresser where I left it this
