A storm was brewing in his eyes, a tempest of wild emotion threatening to consume them both.
‘You let a man inside my home, my enemy at that, and late at night, Saba?’ Mak’s whisper was husky and dangerous, and each word was tinged with restrained fury.
His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles white with strain as he pinned her with an accusatory glare.
‘I can explain, Mak,’ she started, the words tumbling out in a rush as she struggled to calm his rising anger.
He cut her off with a sharp gesture, his expression stern and unforgiving.
‘I don’t want yourfokkin’ explanations, Saba. I want you to understand the danger you’ve put us in by associating with someone like Zolan Asivan.’
Mak’s timbre was cold and clipped, his blue eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and betrayal.
She stepped towards him, her hands reaching out in a futile attempt to bridge the growing distance between them. ‘Mak, please, you have to believe me. Zolan came here of his own accord. He said it was because he wanted to inform you of the threat he just outlined to us. He was earnest that I hear him out,’ she implored.
Desperation crept into her voice as she tried to make him face reason.
Mak’s features hardened, the shadows of mistrust flaring in his gaze. ‘Woman, he’s the menace, and so are you. I’ve had enough of you and your lies and manipulation,’ he bit out, laced with bitterness and disappointment. ‘You can’t seem to stay away from it, can you?’
Mak’s words cut through her like a knife, each syllable a painful reminder of their growing chasm.
She sighed as Mak turned away from her. His body was rigid and tense as he paced the room, the anger rolling off him in waves.
His accusations hung heavy in the air, suffocating her with guilt and regret.
Chapter 17
MAK
Mak was incandescent with rage. His body shook from head to toe, struggling to control his ire.
The fokk?
She’d let Zolan into his home and tainted his trust even further.
Enough was enough.
He decided to punish her.
He tracked her, his gaze locking on her wide-eyed bewilderment.
Without warning, he encircled her waist.
She gasped in surprise, and he waited for her to put up a fight.
There was none.
All he got were her dilated eyes staring at him.
‘You’re coming with me now,’ he growled.
She went limp in his arms, surrendering.
He lifted her into his grasp, hands under her knees and around her back.
Striding in power-driven anger out of the drawing room and up the grand curved staircase of the mansion towards his primary.
‘Where are we going?’ she whispered.
