Den of Vipers

by K.A. Knight

Slipping into the shower, I scrub my body, ignoring my traitorous pussy, who seems way too interested in these snakes.

Mi socia y su síndrome de Estocolmo.

To bite. And I’m the mouse.

Sin estas frases sería más pasable esto.

I will kill them, cut off the head of the snake. After all, if you can’t beat them up, join them and then kill them.

Te apuesto que al final no lo hará. Se unirá a ellos como una más.

Isn’t there a name for this, like Stockholm syndrome? I’m not becoming one of those girls who falls in love with her captors. Nope, not at all…but if they carry on giving me expensive makeup, I might just hate them a little less. Maybe.

…

Make an example of them, remind people what happens when you come after a Viper.”

Ya nos quedó claro, basta de repetirlo.

I never said I was smart, but I do have some big ass balls.

True.

That’s what I’m going to call it, the Rich Fund. For him…the man who saved my life, the opportunity to create the fund given to me by the men who love me. Who knew this is where I would end up? Not me when I slept under a bridge, freezing and starving.

Echaba de menos leer algo sobre ella que no fuera sobre los Vipers o un cliché. Lo que más me aburre de este libro es que repite una y otra vez lo mismo innecesariamente.

I need to go on a vacation and ride lots of dick…and have orgasms. Lots and a lots of orgasms.

YA ENTENDIMOS. Se vuelve aburrido después de leer la misma frase tantas veces.