Cormac watched her, urging her to remember silently. He wanted answers and he wanted answers now.
"What the fuck? Did he think I was going to molest his daughter? I would never fucking touch a child like that! Who the hell does he think of me if he jumps to that conclusion to?" He glared at her, frustrated. He was more angry now than he was before. He really didn't care what Malachi thought about him, but somehow it still got to him. His father was a touchy subject.
"I'm sure Lestrange knows I go to brothels without you mentioning my father took me as soon as I reached puberty," he said in an icy voice.