Damian Fairchild's sharp, dark eyes bored into hers.
His eyes were rimmed with red, the veins standing out in stark relief.
Seraphina Quinn could tell he was struggling to contain his anger over something. He was fixated on whether or not she had been with another man.
'Yes, that was it.'
After all these years, he was as domineering as ever.
Whether it was the destitute Damian Fairchild of the past or the prominent figure he was today, his possessiveness over her had been aggressively undeniable from the very beginning.
He couldn't even tolerate her sleeping with another man—he would get jealous for ages if she so much as exchanged a few extra words with someone else.
"Damian Fairchild, you see? You don't love me as much as you claim."
"The person you love will always be the Seraphina Quinn whose heart and soul belonged only to you—not the Seraphina Quinn of today, who has to maneuver between you and Elias Sommers just to survive."
