Page 24 of Paper Thin Love

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms.“Freedom; can you offer that if it’s what I want?”

“Freedom is the simplest gift to give.”

My eyes narrow as suspicion takes root.

“Take it or leave it.” He adds, looking bored.

I’ve never seen an opportunity like this. Even though it feels like a deal with the devil, how can I refuse?

‘Anything’from a King is a lot to turn down. Dash could help me escape my life; he could make me invisible, even to my father.

“Take it,” I accept, extending my hand. Slowly, he shakes it, his grip firm and cold.

“I have one question,” I say as I grip his hand tighter and lock eyes with him.

He tugs my hand closer till it brushes against his abs.“You should have asked before we shook hands. There’s no escaping me now, Mila.”

I swallow.“It doesn’t have to do with your deal,” I state as I relax my fingers in his grip.“How did you know I was so broken?”

Tell me so I can make sure no one else finds out.

He said I was like a trapped and dying animal. It’s so true.

His glee fades as his chin tips high. He looks like the devil pondering how he’s going to triumph over God, but the distance from the earth to heaven is so vast that it feels incomprehensible.

He swats my hand away like I’m Holy water.“Because I feel the same as you do,” he whispers; a shadow of vulnerability flickers across his face before he hides it with a cruel, cold look that has me second-guessing our newly formed deal.

Chapter 8

Dash

I shouldn’t have told Mila that. Titan would agree; Damian, well, I never know what that twisted fuck thinks. He’s got a soft spot for broken animals, but sometimes, instead of helping them, he puts them out of their misery instead.

The way I see it, in order to get trust, you have to show some. Women fall for that shit all the time. I need Mila, and she needs me. She’s been used by so many, I decided the best way to bend her is to make her feel valued and strong.

And she fell for my words perfectly. She’s mine to use.

It was so simple. I wish it hadn’t been; I wish all the lessons my father taught me had failed. I wish I wasn’t a monster, but you are what you’re surrounded by. My surroundings made me a man who shouldn’t feel, but my cousins—well, they made me a rebel.

I do feel.

I feel inadequate yet powerful, guilty yet justified because this life is a game of survival of the fittest.

I wasn’t lying when I said Mila was a predator. We all are, but I happened to be a more precarious one.

The poor little ballerina has no idea her future is tied to mine, regardless. There is something about her that captivates the swelling darkness in me. She’s so flawed and broken. Her cracks have cracks. She is so filled with glue it’s amazing she is still able to stand.

Just because we’re all dying on the inside doesn’t mean we can’t fight and die with dignity. I want to give Mila that. I want her to feel strong, to know that in the end, she fought with everything she had.

It’s what I’d want to feel, like I had a chance.

It might sound cruel, but it’s kinder than just making her think she’s weak.

Did my dad pick her because she’s so good at standing while being broken, or does he think if I save her, fix her, it will make me the son I used to be, one that had a purpose?

I’ll never love. Only use. That’s a core lesson my dad taught me after my mom died.

Mila’s little button of a nose wrinkles.“You’re a King. There is no trap for you. You make the traps. How can a hunter be broken?” She replies, her swollen lips remain parted. I run my tongue over my teeth, savoring her taste.

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