She clicked her pen. Once, twice, three times. "My guess is, now that you have it, you're afraid you'll lose it. Maybe you don't feel like you even deserve her, though that's a trivial point because, in the end, you don't care."
I didn't miss the her she'd slipped in there. "I didn't come here for relationship advice."
"No." She smiled sadly. "You came here for me to tell you it gets easier, that it blows over, and you'll find a sense of control again. It doesn't, and you won't. Love only gets worse." A sardonic breath left me. "I thought you believed it was just an obsession.
"Haven't you heard? Love is an obsession. Some would even say the moddest obsession."
I'd asked him if he had a weird hair fetish. His reply was, "Only for yours."
"Why?" I'd asked breathlessly. "I love your hair, malyshka. It's the first part of you I saw- the back of your head at your wedding. And then you turned around and looked right at me. But you weren't looking at me you were looking past me, toward your new husband, with this infatuated glow in your eyes. The first woman I wanted to look at me was too busy staring at another man. That was when I started to hate him- and I still do, even though he is dead"-his voice roughened with a slight accent-"because he got that look from you, and I never have."
🖤
"Tell me you hate me, malyshka."
The way he said it so deep ind vehement, slowed the blood in my veins.
I tried to say it. I really did However, as much as it confused me, I couldn't physically push those words past my lips. So, instead, I pulled away from him, flustered with myself.
"This is ridiculous"
"You don't hate me," he said, voice low and resigned.
"But by the time this is over, you might."
"This?"
"Us"
Have different skins on my disposal to fit itno any, as most convenient.
My voice was a whisper.
"I'll make him love me, you'll see."
A thumb skimmed across my cheek. "If anyone can do it, it would be you..." his voice was soft and rough. "Moya zvezdochka."
🖤✨
"Why do you kiss me?"
"I wanted to know what you tasted like."
"What do I taste like?"
His eyes drifted back up to mine. They were so deep and serious they held me captive. His next two words tugged at my heart, even though I didn't know the meaning.
"Kak moya."
🖤
"To live with wolves, you have to howl like a wolf."
~A Russian saying
"Say something in Russian."
"ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl"
"What did you say?"
"you're annoying."
(ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl
translation: you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen)
💙🖤
His gaze met mine. Blue. Cool silk sheets beneath a darkening sky. Although, there was something else. A flicker of something bright and full of life. Like the reflection in a neurotic person's eyes. It was madness. It was obsession.
💙✨
Darkness loved him. I knew without a doubt- they were on good terms.
"You want to know why I don't touch you?"
I shook my head.
"Because if I did, I wouldn't stop. Not until I'd snuffed out that pretty fire in your eyes."
"Regret was a hungry breast, and everyday, it fed."
Agent Allister stood inside the doorway with a blonde by his side. She held onto his elbow, and he held my gaze.
(You can always tell by the eyes.)
I envied him at that moment.
His were an ocean beneath ice, where nothing but the darkest creatures could thrive, while mine were a wide open plain.
He saw everything.
Every bruise.
Every scar.
Every slap against my face.
"Go to hell, Allister."
"Been there, Russo, and I'm not impressed."
A strong statement, but I believed him.
His eyes were what nightmares were made of, ice and fire, and filled with secrets no one wanted to know. He could only pass as normal because of his too-handsome face- otherwise, he'd be locked up somewhere, the world seeing him for what he really was.
Dirty.
His gaze flicked up and caught mine, heavy and emotionless, as if he was looking straight through me.
My heart turned cold in my chest.
Our exchange lasted only a second, but the glance stretched into slow- motion, stealing a breath of air from my lungs. I crossed one leg over the other, baring a generous amount of thigh. Like a warm blanket, a sense of security wrapped around me. As long as they were looking at my body, they'd never see what was behind my eyes.
Nevertheless, the first place he looked as he reached my cell was straight into my eyes. Heartless. Invasive. Blue. His gaze burned, as if I was standing in front of an open freezer on a summer day, hot and cold air meeting like tendrils of vapor around me.
💙✨
"His voice was professional and disinterested, though an elusive timber intertwined each word: an abrasive edge, like a deep, dark sin one kept lock in the pits of their soul."
~Christian Allister
I knew they would have a book of their own, I just didn't know it would be the second one in the series🖤🖤
"I'd always imagined love as a concept-a genuine smile, a couple holding hands a life partner. Now, I knew it was more dimensional; a maddening, possessive, and overwhelming presence that bloomed in your chest, with the power to make you feel so alive or shatter you to pieces."
~Elena Russo
Regardless of what I was born into, I'd always thought of myself as a moral and honest person. Maybe my roots were too deep, or maybe love gave a woman a reason to let her dark colors shine, because I suddenly knew I would lie, cheat, and steal for this man.
I would burn the world for him.
He was king of the Cosa Nostra.
And he was all mine.
🖤
I should have taken Salvatore's other offer when we'd found out Adriana was pregnant-a corner of his territory that would well filled my pockets, and one I'd wanted for a while because Elena fucked with my head, made me destroy the furniture and smoke more than I should. And I had a bad, bad feeling that if this girl used the word please, I would give her anything she wanted.
🖤
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