Because he was hiding in plain sight, she never saw him. He’d lingered patiently in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity that hadn’t come. ‘Good things come to those who take’ was his motto. Just a tiny slip and she’d be back in his arms and her essence in his veins. The ruse had worked beautifully for two months. She’d never known that he’d been drinking her blood. He’d even hidden his guilty pleasure from the Mistress. No, she wouldn’t be pleased. As the evening wore on, the watch dogs never left her side. Irritated that he couldn’t snatch her, he had been forced to play his role. He’d always told his mother that he should have been an actor. For when the mongrels touched his property, he remained in the distance, calmly stewing. Like magma bubbling and building inside the core of the Earth, his rage burned deep inside. Eventually, he’d let his anger flow like a river of lava, destroying everything in its path. The Director spat on the sidewalk, forced to leave the club.
