56

The lies

Devillian entered the penthouse, the door closing behind him with a soft click. His gaze immediately found her—Siana, curled on the couch, trembling ever so slightly, as if she had seen something that clawed at her soul. His sharp eyes darkened. He had already washed the blood from his hands, scrubbing away every trace of what he had done. But her expression—fragile, haunted—he hated it.

He hated anything that dared to dim the light in her eyes.

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Eyrina

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Eyrina

I am obsessed with morelly grey men. I write dark romance without abuse or rape. If you are into something like that then welcome to my profile.