"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

"I hope you realize you made the worst f**king decision of your life." She could feel his cold icy blue eyes piercing through her soul. "I didn't ask for this..." tears threatened to fall from her eyes, her lips quivering in fear. His grip on both her wrists become tighter as he slams them hard against the wall, trapping her petite body in-between the wall and his body, "You'll never have a place in my life, let alone my heart, do you understand?" She winces from the pain from her wrists. He slams her arms against the wall again. He leans in close enough to the point where their lips are only inches apart, "I said, do you f**king understand, foolish girl?" His voice rises as he clenches his jaw in an impatient manner. She nods in hopes that he'll let go. And just like that, he lets go of her as she falls to the floor in utter defeat. What have I done... she asks herself. **Full Summary Inside** Cover by: Me, Myself, and I!

[Book #2 in the Nystrom series] [18+TW: mature content, heavy topics, language] I push the feeling away and ultimately concentrate my gaze on his upper body, which still bears the traces of my lipstick. "You did not remove them?" He smirks and closes the book as I chuckle and trace the lip print with my finger. I smile at the marks, I wanted him to be mine as much as I was his. The marks reflect that. He raises his eyebrows as soon as his eyes land on mine. "Oh?" His voice is hoarse and low when he murmurs, "You like them?" "I do, they look pretty good on you." I admit, gazing up at him when I see him smirk and I wonder what he is thinking about, but when he grabs my hips and pulls me into his lap, my question is already resolved. "Why don't you take some pictures then, love?" εꨄ︎з 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈, the psychopath. While she is still tormented by her dark past, she starts to realize that if anything could obliterate her, it would be her twisted mind. She was desperate for sanity, and as if someone had heard her, the only person who could give her that feeling appeared. 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒, the murderer. He would twist a knife in his heart if it meant proving that he'd do anything for her. He yearned to understand her, her innermost thoughts and ways of thinking. He wanted to be hers, even if it meant losing his own sanity for her. εꨄ︎з STARTED: July 2022 FINISHED: April 2023