Speak
Xavius.
I sat back on the steel chair, placing both my arms on top of the table and folding my hands together. My eyes were pinned on Azalea, as she chatted animatedly with Anabelle of something nonsequential.
It irked me to the core to know that she was sitting here, happily, and so freely, while my beloved wife was being tortured in some fucking hell hole, in exchange to keep this woman safe.
Yes. I understood the consequences if they were to get their filthy hands on her. Painfully, fucking, aware. But, at the way things were going, I was damn well tempted to hand her over on a golden platter to get my family back.
So, the world will go to shit in a handbasket. Did it matter? At least I could take care of my family and protect them.
Here, in the supposed perfect world state, without them. Was it worth it? No.
I wanted to get my family back, and I will come up with a plan to do just that. Whether I had Dante or the other men’s approval, I couldn’t care less of a two shits.
Liam curse
Haga clic para copiar el enlace
Descarga la aplicación Webfic para desbloquear contenido aún más emocionante
Encienda la cámara del teléfono para escanear directamente, o copie el enlace y ábralo en su navegador móvil
Encienda la cámara del teléfono para escanear directamente, o copie el enlace y ábralo en su navegador móvil