Alexander
He watches by the front gate, hidden in the archway’s shadow. There’s a clear view of Shane’s window from here, and through it—Raf and Shane.
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They’re talking. Laughing. Flirting.
It isn’t rage. Not yet. But she’s supposed to open up to him. To trust him. Not waste herself on some ditzy bartender with a jawline and no substance.
But this isn’t jealousy. It’s discipline. Control. And Alexander doesn’t lose control—
Not unless he wants to.