I ended up marrying the bad boy from Brooklyn. The one without tattoos but had that unmistakable gaze screaming trouble. His eyes came with a bunch of red flags. I was well aware of what I was getting into. I could sense it in the way he touched me, taking possession with his commanding hands. Saying no wasn't even an option, not that I wanted to. That was way back when, feels like ages ago. Now, I've grown up and moved on, but he's still the same guy I tied the knot with. He's got this dangerous vibe that I'd rather not think too much about. As alluring as sin, drawing in all the wrong kinds of temptations - the kind that's hard to forgive, the kind that messes up marriages. I did this to myself. I knew better than to fall for him. And now, I'm fucked. I married the bad boy from Brooklyn, and figuring out how to survive this is a whole other challenge. ⋆·˚ ༘ *
14 parts