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My name is Teal Van Doren, and I’m a thief. The type who’s not interested in pieces of jewellery or goods, but the type who’s after lives. His life.
Ronan Astor. An earl’s son with a Prince Charming complex. Nicknamed Death for his position on the team. He doesn’t know that death isn’t a title. Death is the beginning of every war, and I’ve already started mine.
“Bonjour, ma belle,” he tells me, his tone light, welcoming, and I think there’s some flirting in there, too, but I’m not sure. Ma belle. My beautiful.
“I think you missed the memo about makeup. It’s supposed to make you prettier, not uglier.”
“Mon chou!”
I swallow so hard the sound is audible in the quiet of the room. No. I heard it wrong. I must’ve. It can’t be him. It just can’t.
OH MY FCKING GOOOOOD WTF AHHHHHHH
I start to tuck the phone away then notice I clicked like. Oh no. No, no, no. I remove it immediately.
The stress help
“Say I’ll be good,” I tell Claire. “I’ll be good.” She runs her tongue over her upper lip and fingers my tie. “Aren’t you like sooo overdressed, though?” “That’s not the tone.” I smile. “Say it right.”
Someone is obsessed hihi
If you disrespect me in front of other people, I’ll do the same.”
I jump up and wrap an arm around Silver’s shoulder. “Is it only me, or do you look so hot even in house clothes?” She grins and flips her golden hair. “What can I say? It’s my default.”
“You taste like fucking sin.” He breathes against me. “But do you know what will taste better?”
“I happen to be his fiancée. Ever heard that term?” I stare down my nose at her. “Google it, and then we can maybe talk about it.” Claire’s face creases with a scowl, but her friend points a finger at me. “You’re only his fiancée because he’s forced to. Arranged marriage. Google it.” “I did, and that’s how I managed to officially own him while all of you beg for scraps.” I stare at her then at every girl watching me with either mouths agape or malice in their eyes — or both. “If any of you threaten me, you won’t like how I’ll react. This is my first and final warning.”
I am the slave of what I have spoken, but the master of what I conceal.
“I told you.” My voice is calm. Too calm. “I might let you do things to me, but disrespect me not. I am not your damn toy.”
I’m at the Meet Up and I kicked everyone out to smoke weed and think about you in peace. I miss you and I’m going to fuck you when I find you, my crazy belle. Oh, and my calls have started with the PI. I’m going to convince Ethan to file a missing person report. You’re going down. I fucking miss you, though.
You know, I hate being alone. It’s when the demons come back and want to rage and burn the whole fucking place down.
I love that man :( he's my pookie
“Mine. Only fucking mine,” he growls before he claims my lips in an animalistic kiss.
“Don’t what, mon petit coeur adoré?”
Fainted right there
“It’s not about you,” I try to deflect. “Belle, it says ‘Talk French to Me’. If it’s not about me, I don’t know what is.”
“Too bad, because you’re going to listen, Teal. You’re going to listen to the story of a boy who hates himself so much he needs other people in order to exist.”
“Here’s the thing, belle.” My voice drops. “Since you came into my life, I don’t need people anymore. I just need you.”
And then he pulls Ronan with him over the cliff.
BITCH WHAT THE FUUUCK !?!?!
“Let’s start with you not leaving my side ever again.” “You…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “You still want me?” “Still? Did I ever stop?” He brings my hand to his mouth and brushes his dry lips against the skin. “I’ll never stop wanting you, belle. You’re made for me.”
“Have I mentioned today how much I love you, Ronan?” “I must’ve forgotten.” “I love you,” she whispers in my ear. “Not more than I love you, ma belle.”
