Aurora's POV. 31.
The Italian Beast.
"Get your f*****g hands off me, jerk!"
I yelled, the words exploding out of me as I twisted around. His grip on my shoulder wasn't just a friendly touch - it was a deliberate, repulsive caress that sent shivers down my spine.
It felt like… he was trying to rub me, like something s****l. Disgust coiled in my stomach.
"Mi scusi... Sei cazzo bella!" (You're f*****g beautiful!) he said, his voice thick with something that felt like pure, predatory lust. He was Italian, I think. His eyes raked over me, and the way he bit his lip made my stomach churn. It felt like he was picturing me naked.
Fuck. What was he even saying? I stood there, confused and disgusted, trying to figure out why he'd followed me into the restroom. "What the hell?" I snapped,
