Annabelle’s fists clenched at her sides as Mikhail’s ridiculous words rang in her ears.

“Dante’s pet?” she repeated, her voice low with disbelief. “What the hell makes you think I’m anyone’s pet?”

Mikhail’s smirk widened, an infuriatingly amused expression spreading across his face. “Who said I thought it?” he asked as he shrugged lazily. “I probably picked it up somewhere. Can’t remember where though”

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms as she stepped closer. “You’re lying.”

His hand pressed to his chest dramatically, his tone mock-offended. “Me? Lie? Never. I’m an honest man, princess. Pure as freshly fallen snow.”

Annabelle glared at him, biting back the urge to stomp...