If looks could kill, you were certain you might drop dead from the scowl Copia was giving you. You had just told him you wouldn't participate in his plan to take over the Church of Satan by all means necessary, bending it to his will.

"Il mio tesoro," he coos, as if disbelieving of what you had just told him. "You are my consort. Are you really telling me no?" he says incredulously. He was torn between anger and affection. He never wanted to be angry with you, but you had set him off.