Smirnov Bratva Series by T.L. Smith

What if I was to tell you, you’re all evil? In some shape or form, you are. What If I was to tell you, I was the worst kind of evil? Would you believe me? I did not believe that there wasn’t anyone who didn’t contain evil. I was proved wrong, and it stumped me. I became obsessed with her, someone of pure goodness. And couldn’t get enough. I needed to see her insides because that’s what I do. Tearing people apart, I have to prove my point... moreWhat if I was to tell you, you’re all evil? In some shape or form, you are. What If I was to tell you, I was the worst kind of evil? Would you believe me? I did not believe that there wasn’t anyone who didn’t contain evil. I was proved wrong, and it stumped me. I became obsessed with her, someone of pure goodness. And couldn’t get enough. I needed to see her insides because that’s what I do. Tearing people apart, I have to prove my point. I wanted to split her apart, to find any trace of bad. It was wrong of me to think like that. Though if death is all you know, is it so wrong? My name is Death. Her name is Pollie. And I want to see her insides. Just to understand if she is as pure as she makes out to be. less

She was promised to me. I was promised to her. She was the daughter of a drug lord, I was the cousin of one. Together we could have been beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. But beautiful doesn’t factor into my life. Death. Destruction. Pain. That was my life. She’d had her taste of it. But was she really ready for it? Because I lived in hell, and my wife would soon be Satan’s bitch. She wouldn’t be prepared. She could never be.

A heart is something that should not be entrusted to me. I will tear, crush, and destroy it with my very own hands. Then back away with a smile on my face. It’s who I am—a killer, a player, a joker. But hers, I’m unsure about. Do I want to rupture and rip it from her chest? Or do I want to hold and capture it with my own?