Selina didn't care about anything else—but letting him sleep in her room, sharing one bed, was too risky. Before anyone could intervene, she spun sharply and approached one of the maids holding Zane's luggage on the staircase.
She snatched it from her, dragging it back to the living room while Zane watched quietly, curiosity flickering across his expression.
Midway to the dining room, Selina kicked his suitcase open like a tyrant, lifting it with every ounce of strength as his clothes spilled to the floor.
Zane's expression darkened, dangerously intimidating.
The air thickened, tense and suffocating.
He didn't look away.
And Selina refused to back down.
Not now.
Not ever.
But Selina didn't stop there. She stormed across the house to wherever she knew she'd find the substance she was looking for.
Moments later, she returned, carrying it in her hand. The custom designer clothes still lay helplessly across the marble floor.
