Adrian's eyes tracked the direction where Amanda had disappeared with that gigolo, watching until they vanished completely into the manor's interior.
His anger from the previous confrontation had subsided, leaving something colder in its wake.
Contempt.
Pure, distilled contempt for that assistant who'd dismissed him like he was invisible.
Like his presence meant nothing. Like he was some irrelevant annoyance rather than the future husband of her boss.
'How dare she.'
The memory of her expression — that barely concealed disdain, the way she'd looked through him rather than at him — made his jaw tighten.
'You don't know, do you?'
Adrian's lips curved into something sharp and humorless.
'You have no idea that your precious boss is going to come crawling to my door tonight. Begging. Apologizing for every dismissive word. Every rejection. Every moment she made me feel like I was beneath her.'
The fantasy crystallized with vicious clarity.
