CINDY’S POV
“Lord, save us from an untimely death,” I prayed under my breath as Damian’s bat-outta-hell driving had us one swerve away from getting pancaked by a semi.
I clutched my seatbelt like a lifeline, my heart slamming against my ribs as he blasted trashy bubblegum pop at ear-shattering levels.
One hand stayed on the wheel like he was auditioning for Fast & Furious: Thorne Edition.
The other squeezed my thigh like his personal stress ball until we finally skidded up to Elis’s estate, hidden way out on the city’s edge like a damn hermit crab.
Who the hell drops millions on a mansion in the middle of this weird-ass jungle?
No one but Elis Thorne, of course.
Dude’s always been a weird, antisocial, stone-cold punk with zero chill and zero fun. He is the total opposite of the goof
