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The truth isn’t what you see. It’s what you make of it. There’s no such thing as a wholesome truth or a perfect reality. There are people and agendas. There is peace and war. There is losing and winning.
Igor’s son, the husband I just willingly chose, is none other than the one who stabbed my heart then walked all over it. Kyle fucking Hunter.
“Keep your voice down.” He advances toward me again, this time flattening his hands on either side of my face, caging me against the wall. “And yes, I’m dead serious. I will make you my wife.”
“For better or worse.” “Fuck you.”
CLOCK IT GIRL
When the hurricane hits him out of nowhere, he’ll understand why storms are named after women.
She always did things differently while flipping the world her middle finger. I’ll be the exception in that world.
My makeup is thick, as usual, but I opted for red lipstick, because the devil needs to look pretty to lure in her prey.
YAS BADDIE
“Those who say women can’t go far in this world are afraid of what the likes of you can do. That’s why you have to be careful and smart, because your enemies are more than you can count or see.
“What’s made my beautiful wife mad?”
SCREAMINGGGGGGGGG
She tastes like addiction and bad decisions, and yet I would still come back for a hit every day.
“What are you doing?” “Consummating our marriage, Princess. It’s long overdue.”
“If I’d known you’d be this adorable, I would’ve gotten you drunk before.” “No one gets me drunk but me, and don’t call me adorable.” “I’ll call you whatever I wish, wife.”
“Black means staaay the fuck away.” He wets his lower lip with his tongue, and I follow the motion with my eyes as if I’m starved and it’s the most delicious meal on earth. “Says who?” “Says me. Black is like a funeral.” “The joke’s on you. I love black.”
“You don’t let other men near you. You don’t touch them, act friendly around them, or talk to them more than necessary.”
YES SIR
Her scent, something like roses and citrus mixed with alcohol, intoxicates me, and I become drunk on her. Not the liquor—her.
“Speaking of the princess,” Adrian says, and my first knee-jerk reaction is to punch him in the throat. Only I am allowed to call her Princess.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH
Her nose twitches as she winces before she quickly hides it. That’s weirdly adorable.
“Don’t attempt to play with my fire, Rai. The moment a man so much as looks at you, let alone touches you, I will slice his fucking throat and watch as life leaves his eyes so he knows in every last second that he shouldn’t have touched what’s mine.”
SCREAMINGGGGGG
Rai Sokolov is the forbidden fruit I should’ve never tasted, because one single taste isn’t enough. Neither is the second, the third, or the tenth.
