Lylah James

She turned back to me and lost her glare in the process.

Time didn’t erase the past.

But it did heal some of the hurt.

“I will break you, Julianna Romano.”

You can’t break what’s already broken.

This marriage was his vengeance – the vows would not be of love, but of hatred.

His retaliation. My atonement. One imperfect marriage.

“What do you want?” he snapped, enraged.
“Dinner, every night for thirty nights,” I spilled out quickly before I lost the courage. “And I expect us to converse without throwing insults. Simple as that. After those thirty nights, we can then discuss consummating our marriage.”

Because those thirty nights would be absolutely cruel to my heart.

“To hurt you, to break you… and to hate you for the rest of our days. I will never be your protector, never your defender; I vow to be the villain in your story.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I roared, gripping her jaw before I slammed my mouth over hers, silencing her screams and swallowing down her cries.

The kiss was barely even a kiss.

One ruined moment.

Two simple breaths.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Killian,” Julianna muttered, her voice soft and broken.

“Not for us,” I said.

“Not for us,” she agreed.