His gaze was so cold it gave me chills, and in some careless, terrifying manner I’d never seen from the strait-laced fed, he dropped his tumbler to the floor. It shattered across the tile, sending a tremor through me. I eyed the shards of glass and muttered, “That’s going to be a mess to clean up.” “You couldn’t survive me, Gianna.” It was just a statement of fact. “Nothing fragile ever does.”
