You should be given a chance to take revenge before dying.
With that softly muttered sentence, my heart dropped. The warmth was no longer felt in the hands that gripped my head.
I thought you were dead.
A smile flickered across the cold face. A sense of relief that the opportunity for revenge was not lost. A sense of triumph for not losing the prey. He possessed a refined arrogance and a beautiful cynicism, instead of clumsy innocence and cumbersome affection. Much had changed, and so had she.
As much as you have fallen, I have risen.
I was so accustomed to enduring pain. But enduring pleasure and desire was unfamiliar.
I want to carve it out. All the memories of that night.
So, I ran away, carrying his child.
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