Chapter 29:Fury and the Aftermath
~Isabella's POV~ “Isabella?” Dante’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, laced with genuine concern, the sound pulling me back from the brink of pure terror. I was still impaled by the shock of the power tussle, the pressing weight of William’s rough hands still gripping my shoulders. My breath came out in a ragged rush, my suit jacket slightly twisted, my hair clinging damply to my temples. I opened my mouth, but no proper response formed....just a choked, useless sound. Before I could mutter anything intelligible, like a simple "Yes" or "Thank you"....Dante’s composure snapped, his focus laser fast as he turned back. His rage filled gaze averted from me and settled back on the pathetic figure of William....who was still sprawled awkwardly on the Persian rug, blinking up in confusion,
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