AYLA
If Stares could burn; I was already aflame.
Cold sweat broke down my spine and coasted my waistline.
Lorenzo Vellani tried to come closer, and I screamed at him to stay back.
This was clearly wrong timing.
"Get to the car," Don Cassian's voice sounded inhuman and paralyzing.
My limbs suddenly couldn't move.
"He just wanted to…" My brain felt foggy under the intensity of his gaze. "Look, it's not what you think, I swear it," I tried to explain.
"Car." His voice held a deadly calm.
"He didn't touch me. I swear it. He… he just," I stuttered miserably.
Don Cassian's hand reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.
My throat tightened. My hands cold, clammy, and shaky.
"Noooo," I whisper-yelled, holding one palm out and clutching the length of my dress with the other.
God, why wasn't Lorenzo pleading for his life? The damn fool stood there, so unfazed by Don Cassian's presence.
Dread crept into my skin and straight to my heart.
