His Demons

[Vance’s POV]

I sit at my piano, staring at the blank music sheet in front of me, trying to will something to come to mind. However, with each passing minute I stare at it, my anger grows more and more, to the point where I know I’m not going to be able to compose a thing tonight. Not when that woman making out with another man haunts my thoughts.

Who the fuck was she to think that she could just go about doing as she pleased after I marked her as my own? She had some gall, and when I found the one she was kissing, I was going to kill him with my bare hands.

Letting out a growl, I get up, knocking my glass of wine, which sits on the edge of the piano, over so that the beautiful red colors begin to spread across the white marble, staining it beautifully as if it were blood itself.

I continue to stare at it for a moment longer before heading out of my studio to find Allister leaning against the wall.

“What is it?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Can’t I simply come and see my little br