Smith's POV
"That b***h," I muttered under my breath, my frustration simmering like a volcano about to erupt. The memories of my encounter with Annabel still haunted me, driving me to the brink of madness. I needed a release, an escape from the chaos of my desires.
I reached for a cup on the table and hurled it at the wall with a vehement force. The sound of shattering glass was a satisfying symphony to my ears. I lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, allowing the smoke to curl around me like a protective shield.
I wanted Annabel, and that fact tormented me. I was trying to be the good guy, trying to show her that I could be more than just an Alpha. But every time she rejected me, it was a reminder of the boundaries that separated us.
The struggle to suppress my baser instincts, to be
