Dante gripped the steering wheel like he was trying to strangle it, his knuckles white with the force. The engine of his black SUV roared as he tore down the road away from the cafe, tires screeching at every sharp turn, barely missing a cyclist.
Rage pulsed in his veins, drowning out the low rock song playing from his radio system.
This wasn't how today was supposed to go at all.
He was supposed to swoop in like the knight in shining armor, cradle Elisa in his arms as the terrified victim, gain her trust, her eternal gratitude... maybe even her love. Just the way Cael had managed to get into her heart.
But no. That bastard Cael had shown up out of nowhere—barefoot, no less—and completely ruined everything.
He slammed a palm against the wheel. "Damn it!"
How on earth had Cael even gotten there so fast?
In the first place, how had he even known that she had been taken and know where to go?
