![]() The way they look at me, desire me, dream of me, is a weakness. That they can handle me and then walk away.They’re wrong. This is who I am.Their angel of deathMy boys…they think they know me. I’ll carve it in their bloody hearts if I have to.I can’t help it. Love is overrated.Killing for retribution is everything I’ve ever wanted.They’re all going to die.Those who have sinned will know it. Because I’m the real monster.They just don’t know it yet.Publisher Note: A History of Violence is a dark RH serial killer bully romance, intended for mature readers, containing material that some may find triggering or offensive. That they're soulless.But in the end, they all beg. ![]() That I’m the prey and they're the carnivores. They tell me they don't give a fuck if they live or die. The way they look at me, a need, a hunger clawing inside, I recognize it in the mirror. He was supposed to die.But now I have him where I want him, I can’t help but taste him a little.All of them. Killing for pleasure is messy, bloody, chaotic. ![]() ![]() ![]()
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