I was the devil.
“You look stunning, Quinn.” I bent down and kissed her cheek. She gasped, unable to form words. Tears ran down her face, and I kissed them away too, drinking her down like a parched man that had been denied of water.
I turned my attention to Brian, the pathetic excuse of a man. He was crying. A bumbling mess on his knees as the blood dripped from his wound. I bent down and gripped his chin with my fingers, hating him even more than I thought was possible.
“What are you doing?” Quinn yelled at me.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing the mascara run black trails down her face and smirked. “Taking what is mine.”
And it wasn’t Quinn.
It was vengeance.