Lucien

Having her this close to me is a balm on my open wounds and bruises.

I taste her lips and for a moment, I’m in heaven and it doesn’t feel too wrong to die. If it could be like this every day, then I’d gladly welcome death.

Tears cascade down her cheeks and they make my own cheeks wet. I murmur against her lips, “Don’t cry. I can’t bear it when you cry, Gianna.”

“I hate him,” she says, and the words come out all choked. “I hate him! Every day, I wish I had the ...