It was a message from Adrian.A picture. He had managed to wash my haughty Persian cat, who was now sitting meekly in the bathtub, perfectly clean."I got Princess all clean. She scratched me three times," he wrote, adding a pouting emoji.I laughed out loud and closed the news article.Impossible.The Vandermere Prince, rumored to be so ruthless that the entire vampire world trembled at his name, couldn't possibly be my sweet, simple vampire who bathed cats and got scratched in the process.The following days were as sweet as a honeymoon.Adrian was always there to pick me up from the hospital after work. If I talked to a male colleague for too long, he’d just stand there, staring at me with those sad, resentful eyes, like a neglected puppy.Later, back home, he would pin me against the door, his gaze dark. "Chloe, you spoke to that man for twenty-three minutes today.""It was a work thing," I'd explain."I don't care," he'd say, his nose tracing my skin, as if marking his territory.
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