The Kiss Thief

To be alive and not really living was a terrible curse.

Slowly, I watched to my utter shock as Wolfe began to lower himself down to his knees. I choked on my breath, unable to tear my eyes from the scene unfolding in front of me. My husband, the proud, take-no-bullshit, arrogant bastard was kneeling, begging for me. What’s more, he didn’t look an inch less superior than he did walking into this room. He tilted his face up, allowing me an angle from which I could see him clearly.

. “We are who we are.”

“We are who we choose to be,” she corrected,

You look beautiful, Francesca Rossi.” Angelo pulled me by the collar for a slow, suffocating hug, whispering in my ear. “But not as beautiful as my future wife.”

“My wings are not meant to fly,” I whispered. “They’re meant to shield our family.”

Don’t let the door hit your ass on your way out, Nemesis.”

“It’s degrading to kneel, in general. It is not degrading to kneel for someone who is worth your pride.”

What are you going to do with my father?”

“I’m going to ruin him.”

I swallowed. “And with me? What are you going to do with me?”

“Save you.”

As it was, I had a control issue.

I lacked it.

She had all of it

Villain?”

“Yes, Nemesis?”