Victor

At fifteen, my world smelled of gunpowder and expensive cologne. Viktor, the city's most influential mobster, shot my parents right before my eyes, without even glancing my way. I survived with one single goal: to become his personal curse.

For ten years, I constructed a new identity. I learned to be flawless: perfect posture, a cold mind, and lies that became my second skin. I wormed my way into his inner circle, made myself indispensable, and then—became his wife. My wedding dress was a dazzling white, but beneath the corset, I hid a slender blade. My goal was closer than ever.

But life played a cruel joke on me. Viktor, that brutal killer, became someone else at home. He surrounded me with an almost pathological level of care, protected me from enemies, and trusted me with secrets that could destroy him. His touches, which should have sparked only disgust, began to burn me with tenderness. Every "I love you" spoken in his low voice pierced my heart deeper than any knife.

On the night appointed for retribution, I stood over him while he slept. My hand gripped the steel, but tears blurred my vision. With all my heart, I hated him for what he had done to my family, yet I was suffocating from love for the man he was now. Suddenly, Viktor snapped his eyes open, and his sleepy gaze landed on me. "Darling, what's wrong? Is everything okay?"