If I don’t love myself, then who will? And what kind of love am I asking for if I’m hell-bent on showing the worst version of myself, time and time again.
Call it absurd or illogical or fucking territorial, but Violet’s off-limits to all other men. She’s mine until I slice her goddamn throat open.
See a light at the end of the tunnel, only for it to be me. Their grim reaper.
“You’re laying with a man called Mr. Muffins? Who in the deadlands is named something so ridiculous?”"A teddy bear I’ve had since I was six.”"Oh."
He kept his grip around her throat as he leaned in close to her face. "What could be better…for The Villain’s whore.”“Actually,” she rasped out. She opened her eyes.“I’m. His. Fucking. Assistant,” she whispered and smiled, before whipping the dagger up and slitting his throat.
“So destruction is his solution?” Evie rolled her eyes, pushing her loosened hair out of her face. “Men,” she scoffed. “Yes, we can discuss the obvious weaknesses of my sex later.” The Villain’s eyes glittered.
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