Amalia Torres felt gross.
Sitting on the expensive couch, having not showered in a day or so, she wanted to stand out of fear of ruining it. But she couldn’t, her legs didn’t even feel like they were attached to her body at this point. Looking at her sister, a sister she’d spent so long believing to be dead. Had mourned as dead. Had said she was dead and was sure she was dead. Felt she was dead...and had left her.
Looking at her alive though, if not fully still breathing and functioning, able to communicate as people do...Amalia felt betrayed. Staring at her back as her handsome Italian demon husband said in her ear, “I’m going to go and handle that situation with Gabrielle, I’ll see you later?” Nodding and kissing his chin, the kiss to her mouth made Amalia look away until his deep vo
