The Tyrant: Chapter Four
- Hamlin
- May 20
- 9 min read
Cassandra picked up the coffee cup and brought it to her lips, her fingers steady, her eyes defiant, her mind—she hoped—immune. The son of a bitch wouldn’t dare try it again. Not here, in his office, in the middle of a Monday morning. But the way Marcus smirked from behind his desk told her he was just that bold. Just that sure of himself. Her stomach turned with dread. She should have known.
