By the time Roman returned to the stage, the black-haired man had already settled deep into one of the auction house's most grandiose chairs. He lounged there with lazy ownership, a tally resting in his gloved hand, idly tapped against his fingers as his gaze drifted over the polished wooden stage.
His thoughts were far ahead of the bidding.
He wasn't thinking about whether he would win Evangeline.
That was already decided.
What occupied his mind was what would come after— what he would do once she was placed into his hands, bound to him so he could do whatever he had been wanting to do.
The images that surfaced were dark and mostly would be called vile by others. The kind of thought that wouldn't shy away from his head.
He entertained his own imagination, almost so ready to immediately snatch Evangeline from the place.
