She glared at him.
He was truly foolish if he thought he could speak to her so lowly.
"Do not speak to me like I am your servant. I shall not tolerate such disrespect. It is certainly not my fault that you are in a fucking horrible mood, is it?" Her nose flared in anger.
Like a predator observing its prey, Vincent watched her for a moment before rising from his seat and walking around the table.
He stopped a few feet away from her.
Looking down at her, he realized once again that perhaps it was better to remain wary of her from a distance.
Getting too close to her would certainly do more harm than good.
Yet, he didn't move.
She looked… incredible.
Far too incredible.
And she smelled just as intoxicating.
His jaw tightened at the thought, annoyed that he had even noticed.
"I shall speak to you however I want. You should not forget your place."
Her anger only deepened.
"And where do you think my place is, huh?"
A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Beneath me."
