Her Ruthless Warrior
And he did.
They called him RG—just the letters, sharp and hollow, like the echo of a gunshot. To the underworld, he was a ghost with bloody knuckles. To her, he was the angel who forgot how to pray. her ruthless warrior rg angel vk
“No,” he’d answer, voice raw as a wound. “I’m yours.” Her Ruthless Warrior And he did
VK kept no throne. Only him.
He was never meant to wear a halo.
