Chapter 20


She was so soft, so achingly soft that it caught me off guard for a moment.

The pale skin of her throat felt like velvet against my hands, like redemption and retribution for the instruments of death I’d used more times than I could count. They were the same ones I used now, the same ones throbbing in tune with the pulse in her neck, sapping the life from her trembling form.

It was a fitting end for her, backed against the wall with nothing but my chest to claw at as I watched the oxygen seep from her lungs. The dress she wore, like sin draped over perfect fucking curves that would’ve had me frothing at the mouth if they didn’t belong to her.

I expected her to beg, I fucking wanted it.

People were predictable to the point where it didn’t matter what morals a man might have. When someone stronger than them sauntered in the room, snatching up the weakest morsel to take and take and take. What did they do? They turned their heads, they reveled in their insignificant lives hoping tha
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