Darius' POV
Bloody hell—I kissed her. I confessed my love for her. And I hated it. She hates me. Looking into her eyes now feels like staring into an endless, searing abyss, dark and brimming with venom—not just for mankind, but for me.
She's pacing the room like I've just unraveled her sanity, like my mere presence burns her from the inside out. I see the disgust etched on her face, feel it radiating off her body. I can't blame her. Taking her as collateral wasn't exactly noble or honorable. But I love her. God, I love her. Perhaps it started that night in her room when she fought me with such ferocity it shook me. Or maybe it began when my daughter's innocent heart saw something pure and beautiful in her. I don't know. All I do know is this: Allison Martins owns my heart completely, even if she despises me for it.
"I don't love you back. I can't love you back. I'm your prisoner, and I hate you for taking my life away."
