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Her words are the strongest aphrodisiac that’s ever hit me. The knowledge that she’s had me on her mind, probably as much as I’ve had her on mine, swells a dark corner of my heart with strange warmth.
“Fucking answer me, Lia! Did you sit down and plot the perfect way to kill me?” “I would never plot to kill you, not even when you hurt me, not even when I thought I hated you.” I push at him with all my might. “I killed for you, you fucking idiot! I killed the man Luca brought that day, because the thought of him hurting you made me lose my damn mind! That’s why my depression hit hard afterward, that’s why I was like a zombie to the point I couldn’t pay attention to my own son! Killing a man, even if he was a criminal, hit me hard and I couldn’t survive it. But do you know what the worst part
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I do love you, Lia. I always have. But my form of love isn’t sweetness or softness. It’s nothing noble or delicate. My love is selfish and villainous. My love is the type where I will kill people to protect you and erase others to avenge you. My love is possessive, obsessive, and knows no boundaries, not when I first met you and certainly not now.”
“Then don’t say you’ll leave me again. You’re my last stop and I plan to stay, not move on.” “You’re my last stop, too.”
She’ll always be my lone rose—the resilient rose that I’d pluck from the side of the road over and over again, even if her thorns caused me to bleed. She’s my rose.
I ripped my heart out and placed it on a platter in front of him and he just ignored it.
“Who says I want a hero? I’m perfectly happy with you, my villain.”

