It was an intense month after the engagement, and during that time I almost felt like an ordinary woman, living ordinary days with a wedding ahead of her. For the first time, I feel like some strange version of myself.
We went out, talked, discovered tastes, preferences, interests… I ran away a few times because the bastard has a thing for cornering me against walls and, embarrassingly enough, the chaos he creates inside me with those absurdly skilled hands feels far too good.
If he’s that precise with weapons, then his aim must be excellent.
I feel dangerously comfortable beside him, and that keeps me even more alert because it will become a problem when I need to kill him. It certainly complicates things, considering I do not have the right to hesitate. So why do I allow myself to con
