[Dante]
Petty.
That was the only word to describe my actions. I’d never been the type to let emotion dictate my actions, much less over something as trivial as a kiss.
Yet the image of Bianca pressing her lips to that… nobody, of all people—had made me act unconsciously.
It wasn’t the act itself that still got under my skin, it was the fact that I’d fallen into her trap by proving that she had that sort of effect on me. I was undeniably a possessive man. I thought I could stomach her being with another man aside from me but maybe I’d been wrong about that.
How annoying.
By the time I slid behind the wheel of the car, it was nearing six in the evening. There was no traffic and the late-day sun bled gold across the windshield. Malcolm should’ve been driving, but Malcolm was dead, and I
