Alissia
I wake up to Demitri leaning over me, and I instantly hate him for it. The sleep was too good, too peaceful, and now it’s shattered by his presence. I roll out of Jenni’s bed, still half-asleep, and stumble into my room for a quick shower.
Once I’m dressed—choosing a skirt and shirt that feel professional enough—I slip on my shoes and head out. As I walk into the living room, I catch Lucas and Demitri locked in a silent battle of glares. Fantastic. Not this again. I sigh, aiming for the kitchen, but Demitri’s hand shoots out, catching my arm before I can get far.
“No time for that. We’ll grab you coffee on the way,” he says, his tone as smooth and controlled as ever. “Say goodbye to your serial killer friend.” His mockery is laced with amusement, but I can practically feel Lucas
