Page 117 of His Cursed Heart

I'll make sure he dies under my wrath. Not Everette's.

My heart beats faster when the feeling of his belt

slaps on my ass invades my body.

He fucked me so good that even now I walk limping. Everything he did to my body was like a touch of reality.

Everette's sinful body covered in blood is what made me realize how much I crave this man. His green, hungry eyes were looking at me with so much desire and his tight body made me a mess.

My fingertips are begging me to take the brush and paint the god who is haunting my dreams. To paint him with the bloody sword on him, full of sweat and muscle.

I almost moan at the thought. It's insane how this man makes me think with my pussy and not my brain. If he asks me for a favor, I'll get down on my knees for him faster than anyone. And it's not because he killed my abusers and Hanibal. I don't feel attracted to him because he lifted the burden from my shoulders.

Everette Keaton holds a part of me since the beginning of everything. Keres owned him. He was her fiancé and I stood nights awake because his eyes haunted me. And the guilt was always there.

It's still there.

I was never a choice in this match. Everette came to ask for her hand in marriage because she saved him, and he became fascinated by her. I was never in their bubble.

But I was dreaming about him being mine. Dreaming of the idea of me saving him and be his first choice. It's the second reason why I started taking sleeping pills. I needed something to take the illusion from me and wake me to the real world.

The guilt ate me alive when Keres was in the same room as me and when the bet happened, I lost every emotion and feeling I had.

I enter the kitchen, taking an empty glass from the

drawers and fill it with sparkly cold water. After the best sex I had ever with Everette and we showered, he asked me to stop taking the pills. And exactly what I said earlier, I stopped.

"Can you do something for me?" He whispers as the hot water relaxes our bodies.

"Anything." And I mean it.

"Stop taking the sleeping pills. If you have nightmares or you feel like you can't sleep, wake me and I'll be there for you. I'll annihilate every bad dream and I will stay with you as much as you need to fall asleep. Just, please, stop taking them."

And here I am, alone in the kitchen because I don't want to wake him. He's been so busy with finding Ivan, Enrique, dealing with the mafia. He needs his time to rest.

Althea from a month ago would've smacked me if she saw how mesmerized I am by my husband.

I step back when I hear a door opening. Is Everette awake? Or maybe Vincent?

I drink the water left in the glass, feeling it slipping from my hold when an arm catches my head in a painful position and another hand covering my mouth.

My gasp and stuffed screams are making him hold me tight and I feel teeth biting my neck. I close my eyes at the stinging and with anger I haven't felt in a while, I bite his hand. His silent grunt makes me smack my head on his nose and when his arms leave my body, I turn to face my attacker and I'm left speechless.

"Ti piace mordere ora, puttana?" Enrique asks with anger.

I put my hand on my neck and hiss when I feel a rush of pain coming from there. The fucker bit my flesh until it bled.

Before I have a chance to answer him, I hear a door slamming and I smirk.

"I'd start praying if I were you." I say and see my beast coming with speed, eyeing the gun in my attacker's direction.

When Enrique turns, Everette's face reddens and he drops the gun on the floor. Enrique tries to run, but I extend my leg quickly and he stumbles, falling to the ground.

My husband doesn't waste a second and he grabs his hair, yanking him back until he looks in his eyes.

"Welcome to your personal hell, motherfucker." Everette says to him and he punches him. I hear the crack before I see that he broke his jaw.

My chest moves fast and I look at the guards, who take Enrique and bring him outside. I feel my legs move, following the man who will die tonight.

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