I didn’t know the house I broke into belonged to a mafioso, and now my revenge arc is a lot more complicated.
7 years ago, I died. Nameless, forgotten, left in a ditch after an overdose. I don’t know who saved me or why. God? Satan? A good Samaritan whose name I’ll never know? It doesn’t really matter.
I don’t know who I used to be. My name, my past, they were buried. But somehow, I’m still here.
I’m not the only one the Sleepless Reapers have used and abused, but I will be the last, if I have anything to say about it. I don’t need the attention of a mafioso.
Even if Alessio is fun to play with, and even more fun to make beg. But I don’t have time for his devotion or his pretty, breathless pleas.
I have a score to settle, and I can’t rest until every last Sleepless Reaper is six feet under. Alessio makes me feel something other than hatred for the first time that I can remember.
He makes me hope one day I might be more than a ghost driven by vengeance.
He can’t pull me out of the darkness, but maybe we can keep each other company in the shadows until all our demons are exorcized.
