Ria Wilde

Words have as much power on a person as actions. They cut just as deep and twice as hard. A physical trauma hurts the flesh, but words, they hurt the soul.

And should I find out someone crossed the Saint family, their punishment would be slow. Torturous. I’d make them wish they were never born by the time I was through with them.

Sure, I wish things could be different, but wishes are for children and reality was cruel.

Most would call it paranoia, I call it survival.

“I’m sure we’ll get there eventually.”

“Make sure they fit well,”

“I won’t have my future wife flashing our guests.”

“But you’d let me wear nothing.”

“You’re right, but there would have been no guests to see that, only me.”

“And the priest.”