Simona’s POV
 
“I’m not your angel. Stop acting like I mean something to you!” I turn my head and breathe through my quivering emotions. Why did I let him touch me again? I played right into his hand. All he wanted to do was butter me up so I admit to whatever this crazy notion is in his head.
 
Silence cuts through the air. My beating heart is so loud, I wonder if he can hear it. Repulsion fills me. I hate the fact my body is still buzzing from being next to him. I don’t know why I can’t turn off wanting him. The sexual energy between us never dims and only seems to consume me to a point I feel as if I might combust if he doesn’t touch me, even after he’s shown his cards. He’s a textbook psychopath. Everything I fought to escape from my childhood, he represents. I’m not safe here. And I’m fooling myself that I am when I’m in his arms; it isn’t helping me escape my predicament. No matter how good it feels to be with him, I’ll never truly be protected. It breaks my heart that the one person I need to shield myself from is the only man I’ve ever craved.
 
He gets up, goes to the minibar, and pours himself two fingers of whiskey. Looking out the window, he sternly asks, “Did you not hear what I said to you earlier?” He downs the alcohol in two mouthfuls.
 
My insides quiver. I blink back tears. “You seem to like calling me a liar but are okay with being one yourself.”