Ally's POV
The weight of Poppy's treachery settles in my stomach and the room begins to spin. Her words, laced with sweet venom still echo in my ears, while the images she flaunted on her phone claw at the edges of my mind- Nathan, my Nathan, intimate and entangled with her.
I move through the dispersing crowd, driven by a need for truth- or is it the masochistic pull toward the pain I know is coming? My heels click against the marble floor, the rhythm makes me quicken my approach to where Nathan holds court among the lingering suck-ups.
"Excuse us," I murmur, though it's not a request. The circle parts like a wary sea, revealing Nathan in his tailored suit, a king among men. His eyes meet mine, a storm brewing in their depths, and I know he sees the anger in me too.
"Ally," he says, his voice a low growl only I can detect. It's a warning wrapped in velvet, one I blatantly ignore.
"I need to speak with you. Now." My voice doesn't tremble; Dawn won't allow it.