DANTE

She looked so pathetic I had to save her. At least that’s the excuse, I told myself. It’s not at all because of the jealousy I was feeling the entire night. The impulse to punch all the leery men who were glaring at her while she was dancing. Nor was it the jealousy I felt when I saw her talking to him. I made my way to them without thinking. And when I got closer, it wasn’t the rage I felt at hearing what he was saying to her. No. Not that. But the shock on his face right now is enough satisfaction for me to continue. “I was...