Tanya's POV
"Alpha," someone spoke and I swerved to see Victor in jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt with a knife in his hold.
"I see you've had your fun," Dante observed, a hard glint in his eye as he stared up at the brown haired man who happened to be too drained to move a muscle or speak.
"You know me." Victor beamed wickedly and stepped aside as Dante approached.
"Where's Dalia?" Dante questioned, his fingers gliding across the weapons scattered on a metal table close to the victim, a focused look in his eyes as he contemplated on which to choose.
I should be scared, or worried, or maybe feel guilty for what was done and what was to be done to this man, regardless I felt no ounce of remorse as I watched Dante snatch up a silver chain, barely wincing as his palm circled around it.
