The Dark Angel Of Merciless Deaths
I shook my head, disapproving of Antonio’s decision to keep me here, isolated and idle, when I could be out there, lending a hand and possibly making a difference.
As I closed my eyes in an attempt to find some inner peace, Dima’s blood-stained face hauntingly resurfaced in my mind’s eye. The visceral image was like a recurring nightmare, an indelible mark etched onto my consciousness. The more I tried to banish it, the more it stubbornly clung to me, as if demanding my attention.
Hot Chapters