He wasn’t turned on. He was angry—deadly even, given the ice-cold, heartless look in his eyes. With a low, furious sound, he tugged me roughly out of his way and headed down the hall. All I knew at that moment was, I couldn’t live with Ivan’s death on my conscience. “If you kill Ivan, you might as well kill me.” Ronan paused, but after a few seconds passed, he walked away, leaving me on the floor as desolate as always.
