1
He called me the Wolf Queen.
It was hard to believe that such a ratbag, such a spoilt kid who got away with everything had grown up to inherit his family’s business and act like such a mature adult.
I hated myself for not shutting the glass sliding door and locking it. And for not walking away without turning around to meet his eyes, cunning and scheming.
I hated that I was completely helpless, and that I could do absolutely nothing. I could still feel it, soft and smooth, every time I thought about it.
I was going to make him pay for what he did. I was seeking revenge. I was going to rip and tear that sneaky, cunning grin straight off his face so that he could feel pain like I did.
