Rose’s POV
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the wrench, from Angelo’s hand curled possessively around it. Every instinct in me screamed to run, to flee, but my feet felt like lead as I backed into the living room wall. A million thoughts crashed through my mind—Ellie asleep in the next room, the power outage casting everything in darkness, Jack’s voicemail still playing in the background.
Angelo’s cold smile widened, as though he could sense my fear. “You’ve changed, Rose,” he said, rolling the wrench between his fingers. The metallic scrape made my skin prickle. “A few years ago, you would’ve thrown yourself at my feet, begging for help. Now you think you don’t need anyone but him?”
I forced myself to stand straighter, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “This isn’t about Jack,” I
