Rowan.
Unfortunately, before I could draw out any answer from him, he pressed a button on his wheelchair and his men came rushing through the door. Some pulled me back, then forced me onto my knees in front of the old bastard.
"Tch!" He spat on me, literally. "I would've killed you if my grandson wasn't insistent on keeping you around. But let me make this clear to you, slip up again, and I'll take your eyes and add them to my collection."
The eyes thing again.
I could guess Alessander took that weird fetish from this old bastard.
Promptly, I was thrown out of the library, and escorted to the drawing room, where I was expected to spend my time until the old man let me go.
They didn't lock the door, purely because there was no need to. No sensible person would actually try to escape, at least not in this situation.
Fuck!
