~Aria's POV~
The car ride toward the Cross estate was suffocating. The air inside the luxury sedan felt thin, charged with the sharp, metallic scent of the blood drying on Lucien’s knuckles. He sat in the corner of the leather seat, staring out the window with a gaze so cold it seemed to frost the glass. Every few seconds, a low, pained wheeze escaped his chest, but his jaw remained locked tightly.
He was a man on a warpath. I watched his hands, the fingers that had just broken bones, fiddling with his phone as he sent rapid-fire messages to Marcus. He was already issuing the orders to liquidate their...
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