20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvFIbIbehtW
What kind of woman falls in love with a killer?
Not the kind that reads novels about it. Not the kind who watches crime documentaries and sighs dreamily over fictional psychos.
But here she was. A profiler. Trained. Logical. And Vinci Fernandez was unraveling her logic strand by strand.
No, she reminded herself. Not Vinci. Eon.
But the lines were no longer clear.
She had seen it in his eyes—how he wrestled with himself. How every protective instinct bled into violence. And yet, it wasn’t madness. It was… focus.
Eon wasn’t chaotic. He was controlled. Purposeful. Methodical.
And he loved Vinci in the strangest way. Like a wolf curled around a bleeding master. Feral but loyal.
She scribbled in her notebook:
“Eon is not the villain.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdlU5zvRLcK
He’s the vengeance Vinci cannot carry.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHXnIi0hnP2
But love cannot survive if built on blood.”
Ella dropped her pen.
If Vinci could choose between loving her and protecting her with his hands clean… or unleashing Eon to keep her alive, even if it meant becoming a monster—
He would always choose the second.
The question was:
Could she?
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