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“I pray for your soul,” Chiara muttered. “Don’t have one, but cheers.”
“As a man who has committed every sin in the Bible and invented new ones in the process, I don’t consider myself a son of God.”
Her face was the pinnacle of perfection. Hand-drawn high cheekbones, elfin nose, cerulean eyes, and pouty, pink lips.
“You’re a bad bishop, Tiernan.”
He was an old wolf. But an old wolf was still a wolf.
“So fucking sweet.”
“I can’t wait to corrupt you.”
He smelled…warm. Alive… Like sex and violence and something else, not entirely terrible, but nevertheless catastrophic.
“The most beautiful woman on the continent. No close seconds. They call her a vision, a masterpiece, a myth. From now on, she only has one name—mine,”
“Done with your hissy fit, fetus?”
“You have to stop trying to kill me, Lila. It’s giving me a massive hard-on, and I’ve never been good with delayed gratification.”
“One of the many perks of marrying a psychopathic murderer is I’m in no position to judge you.”
“You bring out the violent murderer in people, Tiernan. Like Enzo plays with knives, and Achilles performs autopsies on his victims for shits and giggles. That’s your thing.”
“Can’t blame you, girl. I want to kill my brother at least five times a day.”
“The only thing stopping me at this point is selfishness. What if I ever need a kidney donor, you know?”
“My brother is more toxic than a king cobra. Unfortunately, you can’t choose your family and metabolism,
“Hello, wifey.”
“Move it, Barbie.”
“Being too polite to my wife might be hazardous to your health.”
She was dangerous. For my plans. For my goals. For that useless thing inside my chest.
She was everything I couldn’t control, and it drove me wild.
Either way, Tiernan “the Deathless” Callaghan was no longer the man I hated the most. Worse still, he no longer felt like the enemy.
“I knew you could take it. You’re doing so good. I’m proud of you.”

