Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

the headlines, my hand already reaching for my own phone, dialing Rafe’s
number before I can suck in another breath.
Disgraced Doctor Kidnaps American-Italian Socialite; Original Media
Mogul Fiancé Missing in the Aftermath.
Rage bubbles up inside me, red hot as it licks a path up my sternum,
spreading like hot lava through my chest. When my call is declined, crimson
splashes across my eyesight, the dial tone making my body vibrate with
violence, and I slam the phone down so hard on my desk that the screen
shatters.
Shoving back, I push to my feet, smoothing my hands down the front of
my suit, sucking in deep, shallow breaths as I try to maintain my self-control.
All he had to do was keep his fucking word, just this one time. I
should’ve known better—the only thing Rafael is really known for these days
is being a snake, and biting when backed into a corner.
Just days ago, I uprooted his life, taking his most prized possession right
out from under him, and while my plan had been to navigate my next steps
carefully and intelligently, this little ploy changes things.
If Rafe wants a war, I’ll bring the fucking battle to his feet.
Walking over to the wardrobe in the back corner of my office, I yank the
door open and pull out a fresh pair of black leather gloves. Sliding them over
my hands, reveling in the familiar stretch of the material against my skin, I
admire the sleek look, knowing that soon they’ll be painted red.
And despite the noisy, intrusive thoughts playing on repeat in my head as
I leave the Asphodel with Jonas, my nervous system has never been more at
ease.