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To all the bad bitches who own their feminine rage and delight in a damn good grovel.
When a man steps out of death row for a murder he didn’t commit, the first thing he wants to do is kill a motherfucker.
If I studied what was reflected in the mirror, I would see a woman who allowed herself to break. Mom taught me to be independent and alert, yet I dropped my guard at the first sign of a man offering a helping hand. Maybe I would have seen through Roman’s bullshit if I had scrutinized every contract as thoroughly as I’d read the first. Then I would have asked what he was doing and worked out an agreement, but I was so dazzled by the promise of selling my art that I signed away my inheritance.
don’t get on my knees for anyone,” he says, his voice dark and rich. “But for you, I’d descend into the depths of hell.”

