Anastasia remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, her eyes glued to the front door.
A part of her... the part that was still under his spell hoped the door would swing open any second.
She imagined Matteo walking back in, his anger cooled, telling her he was taking her to the clinic where her father was being treated.
It was a pathetic hope, but it was all she had to keep her from shattering further than she already was.
Beside her, Dylan's groans grew louder. He was a mess of swollen flesh and high breathing, too broken to move without a strangled cry escaping his lips.
"Stasia..." he wheezed, his voice bubbling with the taste of blood. "Help me... please."
Anastasia didn't move. She felt hollowed out, as if Matteo had reached inside her chest and scooped out every piece that made her human.
She didn't even spare Dylan a glance. As much as her hatred for Matteo was currently topping all the ratings charts in the world, she couldn't stand to be near Dylan either.
