Third Person's POV
Seraphina didn't miss a beat. "At least you're finally self-aware," she said, giving his bruised ego one last shove.
She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.
Mortimer didn't try to grab her this time, but he followed.
He was six-foot-three, radiating power and high-end tailoring, yet he was trailing behind her like a stray that had just been kicked. It was enough of a spectacle to make people on the street stop and stare.
Seraphina noticed a group of girls nearby whispering and snapping photos, their eyes wide with predatory interest at the sight of him. She stopped and pivoted, losing her patience.
"What do you want, Mortimer?"
Mortimer's eyes were dark, a pathetic edge of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "Get in the car. We need to talk. For
