RIP

Pretty things aren’t meant to be broken. But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.

I’m her nightmare.I’m her savior.And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.She doesn’t remember me.She will.It’s inevitable.Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury—I can’t.She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.I bit.I tasted.I fell.

Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death is your only future.