“What do you want from me?” I asked, unsure where I’d conjured the strength to find the words inside of me. “Everything,” he said, shaking his head, like he couldn’t believe I didn’t already realize it. “I want everything you can give me, including the air in your lungs. I want your blood. I want your life. I want your fucking death, Romina.” He squeezed my breast before pressing his lips against mine once more. “Will you give it to me?” “Yes,” I whispered, sealing an agreement heavier than a deal with the Devil himself.
