Inside the speeding car, Alexander's mind was a chaotic mess. He clenched his fists against the steering wheel, a scowl darkening his sharp features.
He was a devil—he had no feelings, especially not for that pathetic woman, Aurora.
She had always whined at him, constantly clinging and playing dirty tricks to get into his life.
When he had that accident, it wasn't Aurora who saved him—it was Veronica. But somehow, Aurora had twisted the truth, pretending to be his savior, winning the favor of his influential grandfather.
That was how she managed to become his wife.
Alexander gritted his teeth. He hadn't dared to defy his grandfather back then.
Aurora had no shame. Time and again, she tried to climb into his bed, throwing herself at him like a desperate fool. How dare she?
He despised everything about her—the pitiful tears, the pathetic sobs, the constant, exhausting act of weakness.
Yet when his IED syndrome had acted up, he had seen real fear flicker in her eyes.
