It was the worst day of my life.
I know most people say that about something obviously horrific—a first heartbreak, the discovery of a fatal illness, or the funeral of a loved one—but my situation was a little different.
Not only was it my wedding day, but it was also the day I chose to die.
Two men.
The first, my Master, my captor, and my impossible love.
The other, his brother, a mafioso I was meant to ensnare and ruin.
If I had any hope of living a normal life reunited with my family, I had to make a choice.
End my old life as I knew it and start fresh, or take down the monsters that hunted me and haunted my Master.
In the end, the decision was never really mine to make. Because Alexander Davenport would come to claim me even in death.
It was the worst day of my life.
I know most people say that about something obviously horrific—a first heartbreak, the discovery of a fatal illness, or the funeral of a loved…
