Zane watches me. “What happened?” “I thought you sent me this dress.” His brows furrow. “I—” “Sebastian did.” With a clenched jaw, he exhales slowly. “Can we leave, please?” “Yes, I’d very much appreciate that.” Zane grabs my hand, guiding me down the hallway. “Fuck him,” he seethes. I enjoy his protective side and that he even noticed. “You’re mine, Autumn,” he confirms as an electric current hums between us.
