His End Goal

[Elise’s POV]

Later, I sit at a large table that is covered in mouthwatering food, dressed in a floor length black gown that hugs my curves perfectly, but I can’t quite seem to find it in me to have an appetite. I mean, how could I when my partner for the evening was a psychopath who was hell bent on destroying the world?

“Something wrong?” The man in question asks, eyeing me over his goblet of wine. “Don’t worry, nothing has been poisoned.”

“If only that was the issue.” I mutter as Ezekial’s gaze narrows.

“You’re way too tense, my dear.” He says, snapping his fingers so a man dressed in a butler's outfit rushes forward. “Please pour our guest something to drink.”

Nodding, the man comes to stand beside me, and once he is in place, he grabs the chilled bottle of wine that sits between Ezekial and me and then begins to pour it into my glass.

“Maybe a drink will help,” Ezekiel says as the butler steps back.