His Broken Angel
I hate disgusting, cowardly men like that.
“I said shut up! Leo has already taken care of that man!” Rose snapped, her brow furrowed.
(I should have cut off his genitals and...)
Crash!
Rose stared at the mirror, now shattered into pieces before her, breathing heavily and glaring.
“Your British accent really makes me sick! Next time I’ll lock you up, so you don’t disturb my enjoyment of this comfortable, clean city.” After that, her expression turned flirty again.
“At least I like this outfit.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt a stinging pain in her knuckles. “I hate pain,” she grumbled irritably. “And blood. I hate blood.”
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