[Mr. Wentworth]
The elevator hummed like a dying thing, terribly dull, filling the space between us with its pathetic little song.
Dante had slipped.
How precious. How laughable.
The bastard had spent his whole life perfecting his little illusion, pretending he was untouchable, that he didn't feel anything. But I saw it. Felt it. That moment of weakness.
And over this woman, of all things?
My fingers twitched. I rolled my wrist, cracking the joint once—
Pop.
Then again—
Pop. Pop.
'Hehe...' The great and prideful Dante... undone by something as feeble as this bag of flesh and bones.
I turned my head slightly, watching Bianca from the corner of my eye. She hadn't spoken since I took over. Hadn't even looked at me. She was simply trembling in my arms.
Hehe.
I hoped she was think
