Page 57 of His Cursed Heart

"Okay." I say with a long sigh.

Next to my bucket list is to anger the Don of the Famiglia, my father-in-law by taking his son away.

Anything for my beautiful wife.

"Okay?" She repeats.

"I think you need to get your ears checked."

"Don't be a dick. Are you really going to take him?"

"Yes, Althea. I will." I stop myself when the words 'I promise' were about to be spoken.

"He will put up a fight."

With a smirk, I say: "Let him come."

"You're crazy." That I am, but her little smile makes my knees weak.

"Do we have a deal?"

Althea eyes close for a second and then determination takes ahold of them.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She whispers. "But yes, we have a deal. Is this the part when we cut ourselves and we combine our blood?"

This time, I let out a good laugh.

"If this is your kink, yeah." Althea puffs and leaves the room.

"I'm already regretting it."

And I'm starting to love it.

I trace the outline of the drop of blood that falls in what would be air from the man's hands.

It took me three days to finish this painting.

Three days since I made a deal with a beast.

But he's going to bring Vincent to me.

He will always be my first choice.

I change the song in my headphones and I take a picture of the painting.

The strong, veiny hands that belong to my husband. I didn't want to paint them, but the moment he left the room to speak with his father, I couldn't stop my fingers from outlining.

The black canvas shows the cigarette from the right hand being thrust into the palm of the left until blood flows from the open wound.

I don't know why I always make normal things dark. No matter what I paint, I always add blood.

And if it's not blood, it's a violent scene or an indecent one.

I'm that fucked up.

I send the picture with a heavy hold on my chest.

Venus knows all my paintings. Regardless of

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