Mafia 3 Quotes

The only other scenario that could explain everything, up to and including your own bizarre apperance, is a convoluted conspiracy theory involving the Russian Mafia and a crack team of plastic surgeons.

Love is when you feel safe in someone’s arms, when he’s the first thing you want to see in the morning, love is surrendering. You risk getting hurt but you don’t care. You are willing to give someone the power to break your heart. Love means seeing someone at their worst and still seeing the good in them, love means someone is perfect for you despite their imperfections

If she liked to play with fire, fine. I didn’t mind getting burned. I’d walk through flames for her. Matteo – The Blade – Vitiello

You weren’t worried about sleeping beside Aria when she still despised you so why should I?” “You can’t compare Aria to Gianna. They are like two different species. And I trust Aria absolutely. She caught a fucking bullet for me.” “Must be nice,” I muttered. “Gianna would probably applaud my shooter.

You mean to say a family of hot-tempered Mafia people are all cosying up with each other on a Saturday night to sit down and watch a movie about a family of hot-tempered Mafia people...? Is that really what you're telling me?

Maybe Father thought I was bad girl enough and didn't need a slutty outfit to emphasize that further.

Vladimir leaned forward. “Never dilute vodka. Is sin.

No panties for you. And no touching. I need to hear a yes, sir.

Yes. There’s no fucking doubt in my mind. I love you, Matteo. I don’t care what that makes me. I don’t care what other people think about me, about us. I don’t even care what Aria and Luca think. All I care about is us.

I guess then that means I don’t care enough. Because letting you go? That’s the one thing I’ll never do.

I kissed her again. I’d never get enough of tasting her. “I love you, Gianna. I’ve fucking loved you for a long time.

I fell in love with a mafia prince.

I’d stand by him and support him as best as I could, because he was mine and I was his.

This was a new beginning with endless options.

Nobody had ever looked at me like that, like I was the only source of water in a time of drought.

I palmed her cheeks gently, our noses touching slightly. “Come back to me, Angel. I’m waiting for you. Let me help you. Give me a chance to make you whole again. Give us a chance. Fight for us.

God, no wonder Father didn't want us to be around men. Now that I knew how good kissing felt, I never wanted to stop doing it.

There was only me and her. Not my past or hers. It was just us. Alessio and Ayla. Both of us lost in each other’s eyes. Both of us lost in each other.

Eventually, I caught my breath. Matteo pushed himself up on his elbows. The look on his face made me regret my weakness. “Maybe one orgasm was really unfair,” he said in a raspy voice.

You can’t compare Aria to Gianna. They are like two different species. And I trust Aria absolutely. She caught a fucking bullet for me.” “Must be nice,” I muttered. “Gianna would probably applaud my shooter.

The idealistic world-improver was his mask,I'd realized.

With a bang, the door flew open. Before either Sid or I could move, three men stalked in. Matteo was one of them. Oh holy shit.

I will take you to Chicago, but I won’t leave your side, Gianna. I won’t give you the chance to run from me again.

Seeing your father bleed to death at my feet would be worth the risk. You are worth it.

I don’t want to love you,” I whispered as I jerked to a halt, clenching my eyes shut. But I did. I did love Matteo.

How about a little bet?” I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what he was going to suggest, but I motioned for him to keep talking. “If I manage to give you an orgasm today, then we put the ankle monitor back on. If you manage to resist my skills, we throw that thing in the trash.” “Only one?” “Greedy girl,” he said teasingly, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me? Are you worried your body won’t be able to resist me?

couldn’t live without her. She reminded me that I was human, that I wasn’t fully broken. She calmed the storm that raged inside my mind on the best of days, the panic that filled me on the worst. If she couldn’t forgive me, I was truly lost.

I take a step in Brooklyn's direction. Just thinking her name makes me cringe. Her parents had named her after a city known for housing the Russian mafia and call girls. Not to mention dirty. Dirty, little Brooklyn. It's a nice place to visit, but no one wants to live there. I bet you it says that under her name on her birth certificate.

It’s true, I couldn’t see how you’d fit. But then I found out my life doesn’t fit me anymore. Not without you.

Dahlia,” I murmured, and she winced because she could hear the ache in my voice. “If I have to, I’ll love you enough for the both of us.

She’s my wife. My son’s mother. Fucking mine. And I’ll go through hell itself if it means keeping her there.

'We're doing it because he's trying to look like a respectable member of the family and not the fucking mafia,' Dex snapped. He grimaced at Ethan. 'Sorry, man, but seriously--this is some fuckin' suit.' Ethan looked at himself and his spiffy shiny cuffs and sighed. 'I was going for grown-up,' he confessed. Kane was the one who said it. 'Well, what you got was connected, but that's okay, right? Because, you know, better a hired killer than a porn star.'

Isn't that what the Mafia does? You give somebody something they can't talk about. Then you've got them.' 'You involve them in a mutual transgression, and you have a mutual corruption. Sure.' So his problem is that he's insufficiently corrupt.' 'Oh, yes. Absolutely. And unsophisticated.

My ears pricked at a sound from the bathroom, a familiar moan, and I shot up from the bed, racing to the door. Throwing it open, I froze at the sight of Gianna in the shower, with her hand between her legs. Oh, fuck no. Stalking over, I shoved the door open, snatched her wrist away, and used it to drag her up against my body. Bringing her fingers to my mouth, I licked them clean, eliciting another moan. Satisfied that I’d gotten all of her essence, I gripped both of her wrists and anchored them behind her back. “No one makes you come but me,” I snarled. “Not even you. Those sounds, your moans and screams of pleasure, they belong to me, Gianna. They are mine and I will not share them.” I stared at her with a hardened gaze, making sure my warning was clear. “If you need a release, you will come to me, or you will wait. Do you understand?

Matteo was an enigma.

I should spread you across my lap and teach you what happens when you make Yuri jealous.

We’ve got a problem,” a harsh voice said through the phone. It was my second in command.

would be worth the risk. You are worth it.

If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.

I would fight her demons for her. After all, I promised to give her back her wings.

She was my everything. Everything I could say I whispered in her ears, hoping that even in her sleep, she could hear me.

Nina Vitiello lifted her chin "Do us all a favor and kill yourself." I wrenched my arm away, shocked. "I won't ever do any of you a favor

If she liked to play with fire, fine. I didn't mind getting burned. I'd walk through flames for her.

Prawdziwy Gruzin w piwnicy przechowuje wino, nie trupy.

The bikini barely topped the swell of her lower abdomen, a thin stretch of elastic traversing the centerline of belled hips and plunging in back well below the pronounced cleft of swollen buttocks.

Her recoil confirmed the disgust Grant felt inside. Who was he kidding, trying to put Vladimir and Andrei behind bars? He was no different from his father. Then he remembered Sophie’s words. “You’re not like them. You’re my McSailor.” A soft touch made him smile, thinking of Bonnie, before he realized it was Innochka’s hand stroking his face. The touch of a mobster’s girlfriend. He leaped back, still crouched on his feet.

But Matteo was the fastest to react. He pulled a knife and hurtled it at Stan who cried out when the blade nicked his ear. “Next time my blade will split your fucking skull if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” he said.

one must know something of the truth in order to lie convincingly.” The president smiled. “Well, they’ve had enough time to play this game. I hope my belated reaction will not disappoint them.” “No, sir. Alex must have half expected you to kick him out the door.” “The thought’s occurred to me more than once. His diplomatic charm has always been lost on me. That’s the one thing about the Russians—they remind me so much of the mafia chieftains I used to prosecute. The same smattering of culture and good manners, and the same absence of morality.” The president shook his head. He was talking like a hawk again. “Stay close, Jeff. I have George Farmer coming in here in a few minutes, but I want you around when our friend comes back.” Pelt walked back to his office pondering the president’s remark. It was, he admitted to himself, crudely accurate. The most wounding insult to an educated Russian was to be

You can’t possibly want to marry me looking like this.” I pointed at my face. “We should postpone the wedding.” Matteo shook his head with a small laugh. “No chance in hell. You won’t slip out of my hands again, Gianna. We will marry today. Nothing will stop me.

JFK asked his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy, to break up organized crime. Nobody high-up in government has tangled the Mafia. J. E. Hoover, the hired hands of FBI and CIA, ran the assassination teams. They have been used since World War II. JFK was attempting to end the oil-tax depletion rip-offs, to get tax money from oil companies. JFK instituted the nuclear test ban treaty, often called “the kiss of death,” to oppose the Pentagon. JFK called off the Invasion of Cuba. He allowed Castro to live, antagonized narcotics and gambling, oil and sugar interests, formerly in Cuba. JFK asked his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy, to break up the CIA, the “hidden government behind my back.” Allen Dulles was fired. Dulles, the attorney for international multinationals, was angry. JFK planned to withdraw troops from Vietnam after the 1964 elections. Nov. 24, 1963, two days after JFK’s burial, the Pentagon escalated the Vietnam war … with no known provocations, after JFK was gone. There was no chance Kennedy could survive antagonizing the CIA, oil companies, Pentagon, organized crime. He was not their man. The assassination of JFK employed people from the Texas-Southwest. It was not a Southern plot. Upstarts could not have controlled the northern CIA, FBI, Kennedy family connections. This was a more detailed, sophisticated conspiracy that was to set the pattern for future murders to take place. The murder was funded by Permindex, with headquarters in Montreal and Switzerland. Their stated purpose was to encourage trade between nations in the Western world. Their actual purpose was fourfold: 1) To fund and direct assassinations of European, Mid-East and world leaders considered threats to the western world, and to Petroleum Interests of their backers. 2) Provide couriers, agents for transporting and depositing funds through Swiss Banks for Vegas, Miami and the international gambling syndicate. 3) Coordinate the espionage activities of White Russian Solidarists and Division V of the FBI, headed by William Sullivan. 4) Build, acquire and operate hotels and gambling casinos. See: Nomenclature of an Assassination Cabal, by William Torbitt.

Okay, I’ve got the hidden microphones with GPS here,” Agent Bounter said. “Let’s get one on you.” “Now, sir?” 
“The Russians are on the radar. It’s time.” As Bounter turned to pick up the tiny button-size microphone, Grant clenched his hands into fists, his anticipation building. It’s time.

Patients, beings who want to be rehabilitated, send me questions See? I answer them real fast, 1 2 3 done Like so You get?' Toby said, his pale green fingers clattering across the keyboard. 'I think so,' I said, shifting in my chair. 'Okay hear we go First question: I just moved to a new city and there's a school next door All the kids, every last student, wear the same clothes Are they all related Is this one of those mafia families I need to be careful around You know the answer? Toby asked, swiveling to face me. 'Perhaps,' I said after thinking a moment. It took a second to distinguish when the question ended and when Toby's remarks started. 'You sure, I can check real quick 1 2 3 I check that fast,' Toby said, his words zooming out of his mouth while Google search engine popped up on his computer screen.

Nowadays, enormous importance is given to individual deaths, people make such a drama out of each person who dies, especially if they die a violent death or are murdered; although the subsequent grief or curse doesn't last very long: no one wears mourning any more and there's a reason for that, we're quick to weep but quicker still to forget. I'm talking about our countries, of course, it's not like that in other parts of the world, but what else can they do in a place where death is an everyday occurrence. Here, though, it's a big deal, at least at the moment it happens. So-and-so has died, how dreadful; such-and-such a number of people have been killed in a crash or blown to pieces, how terrible, how vile. The politicians have to rush around attending funerals and burials, taking care not to miss any-intense grief, or is it pride, requires them as ornaments, because they give no consolation nor can they, it's all to do with show, fuss, vanity and rank. The rank of the self-important, super-sensitive living. And yet, when you think about it, what right do we have, what is the point of complaining and making a tragedy out of something that happens to every living creature in order for it to become a dead creature? What is so terrible about something so supremely natural and ordinary? It happens in the best families, as you know, and has for centuries, and in the worst too, of course, at far more frequent intervals. What's more, it happens all the time and we know that perfectly well, even though we pretend to be surprised and frightened: count the dead who are mentioned on any TV news report, read the birth and death announcements in any newspaper, in a single city, Madrid, London, each list is a long one every day of the year; look at the obituaries, and although you'll find far fewer of them, because an infinitesimal minority are deemed to merit one, they're nevertheless there every morning. How many people die every weekend on the roads and how many have died in the innumerable battles that have been waged? The losses haven't always been published throughout history, in fact, almost never. People were more familiar with and more accepting of death, they accepted chance and luck, be it good or bad, they knew they were vulnerable to it at every moment; people came into the world and sometimes disappeared at once, that was normal, the infant mortality rate was extraordinarily high until eighty or even seventy years ago, as was death in childbirth, a woman might bid farewell to her child as soon as she saw its face, always assuming she had the will or the time to do so. Plagues were common and almost any illness could kill, illnesses we know nothing about now and whose names are unfamiliar; there were famines, endless wars, real wars that involved daily fighting, not sporadic engagements like now, and the generals didn't care about the losses, soldiers fell and that was that, they were only individuals to themselves, not even to their families, no family was spared the premature death of at least some of its members, that was the norm; those in power would look grim-faced, then carry out another levy, recruit more troops and send them to the front to continue dying in battle, and almost no one complained. People expected death, Jack, there wasn't so much panic about it, it was neither an insuperable calamity nor a terrible injustice; it was something that could happen and often did. We've become very soft, very thin-skinned, we think we should last forever. We ought to be accustomed to the temporary nature of things, but we're not. We insist on not being temporary, which is why it's so easy to frighten us, as you've seen, all one has to do is unsheathe a sword. And we're bound to be cowed when confronted by those who still see death, their own or other people's, as part and parcel of their job, as all in a day's work. When confronted by terrorists, for example, or by drug barons or multinational mafia men.

The judgment, handed down by Judge Ian Chin of the Sarawak High Court, demonstrated astonishing independence from the Malaysian government. Chin knew the price of that independence. After a much-maligned judgment against a politician belonging to the ruling Barisan National government in 1998, he had been verbally threatened by Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad, and then enrolled in a five-day boot camp with other judges for “re-educational” purposes. While there, the primacy of the government’s interests was hammered into the judicial civil servants.3 Crushing the independence of the courts was done systematically under Mahathir. In 1988, the autocratic Premier had arbitrarily dismissed the country’s top judge, Lord President Salleh Abas, thereby keeping the remaining judges on a short lead.4 Even today, in 2014, Malaysia’s judges still have difficulty ruling independently when government interests are at stake.

Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta Verse 1 Damn it feels good to be a gangsta A real gangsta-ass nigga plays his cards right A real gangsta-ass nigga never runs his f**kin mouth Cuz real gangsta-ass niggas don't start fights And niggas always gotta high cap Showin' all his boys how he shot em But real gangsta-ass niggas don't flex nuts Cuz real gangsta-ass niggas know they got em And everythings cool in the mind of a gangsta Cuz gangsta-ass niggas think deep Up three-sixty-five a year 24/7 Cuz real gangsta ass niggas don't sleep And all I gotta say to you Wannabe, gonnabe, cocksuckin', pussy-eatin' prankstas 'Cause when the fire dies down what the f**k you gonna do Damn it feels good to be a gangsta Verse 2 Damn it feels good to be a gangsta Feedin' the poor and helpin out with their bills Although I was born in Jamaica Now I'm in the US makin' deals Damn it feels good to be a gangsta I mean one that you don't really know Ridin' around town in a drop-top Benz Hittin' switches in my black six-fo' Now gangsta-ass niggas come in all shapes and colors Some got killed in the past But this gangtsa here is a smart one Started living for the lord and I last Now all I gotta say to you Wannabe, gonnabe, pussy-eatin' cocksuckin' prankstas When the sh*t jumps off what the f**k you gonna do Damn it feels good to be a gangsta Verse 3 Damn it feels good to be a gangsta A real gangta-ass nigga knows the play Real gangsta-ass niggas get the flyest of the b**ches Ask that gangsta-ass nigga Little Jake Now b**ches look at gangsta-ass niggas like a stop sign And play the role of Little Miss Sweet But catch the b**ch all alone get the digit take her out and then dump-hittin' the ass with the meat Cuz gangsta-ass niggas be the gang playas And everythings quiet in the clique A gangsta-ass nigga pulls the trigger And his partners in the posse ain't tellin' off sh*t Real gangsta-ass niggas don't talk much All ya hear is the black from the gun blast And real gangsta-ass niggas don't run for sh*t Cuz real gangsta-ass niggas can't run fast Now when you in the free world talkin' sh*t do the sh*t Hit the pen and let the mothaf**kas shank ya But niggas like myself kick back and peep game Cuz damn it feels good to be a gangsta Verse 4 And now, a word from the President! Damn it feels good to be a gangsta Gettin voted into the White House Everything lookin good to the people of the world But the Mafia family is my boss So every now and then I owe a favor gettin' down like lettin' a big drug shipment through And send 'em to the poor community So we can bust you know who So voters of the world keep supportin' me And I promise to take you very far Other leaders better not upset me Or I'll send a million troops to die at war To all you Republicans, that helped me win I sincerely like to thank you Cuz now I got the world swingin' from my nuts And damn it feels good to be a gangsta

Comme l'impôt est obligatoire pour tous, qu'ils votent ou non, une large proportion de ceux qui votent le font sans aucun doute pour éviter que leur propre argent ne soit utilisé contre eux; alors que, en fait, ils se fussent volontiers abstenus de voter, si par là ils avaient pu échapper ne serait-ce qu'à l'impôt, sans parler de toutes les autres usurpations et tyrannies du gouvernement. Prendre le bien d'un homme sans son accord, puis conclure à son consentement parce qu'il tente, en votant, d'empêcher que son bien ne soit utilisé pour lui faire tort, voilà une preuve bien insuffisante de son consentement à soutenir la Constitution. Ce n'est en réalité aucunement une preuve. Puisque tous les hommes qui soutiennent la Constitution en votant (pour autant qu'il existe de tels hommes) le font secrètement (par scrutin secret), et de manière à éviter toute responsabilité personnelle pour l'action de leurs agents ou représentants, on ne saurait dire en droit ou en raison qu'il existe un seul homme qui soutienne la Constitution en votant. Puisque tout vote est secret (par scrutin secret), et puisque tout gouvernement secret est par nécessité une association secrète de voleurs, tyrans et assassins, le fait général que notre gouvernement, dans la pratique, opère par le moyen d'un tel vote prouve seulement qu'il y a parmi nous une association secrète de voleurs, tyrans et assassins, dont le but est de voler, asservir et -- s'il le faut pour accomplir leurs desseins -- assassiner le reste de la population. Le simple fait qu'une telle association existe ne prouve en rien que "le peuple des Etats-Unis", ni aucun individu parmi ce peuple, soutienne volontairement la Constitution. Les partisans visibles de la Constitution, comme les partisans visibles de la plupart des autres gouvernements, se rangent dans trois catégories, à savoir: 1. Les scélérats, classe nombreuse et active; le gouvernement est pour eux un instrument qu'ils utiliseront pour s'agrandir ou s'enrichir; 2. Les dupes -- vaste catégorie, sans nul doute, dont chaque membre, parce qu'on lui attribue une voix sur des millions pour décider ce qu'il peut faire de sa personne et de ses biens, et parce qu'on l'autorise à avoir, pour voler, asservir et assassiner autrui, cette même voix que d'autres ont pour le voler, l'asservir et l'assassiner, est assez sot pour imaginer qu'il est "un homme libre", un "souverain"; assez sot pour imaginer que ce gouvernement est "un gouvernement libre", "un gouvernement de l'égalité des droits", "le meilleur gouvernement qu'il y ait sur terre", et autres absurdités de ce genre; 3. Une catégorie qui a quelque intelligence des vices du gouvernement, mais qui ou bien ne sait comment s'en débarrasser, ou bien ne choisit pas de sacrifier ses intérêts privés au point de se dévouer sérieusement et gravement à la tâche de promouvoir un changement. Le fait est que le gouvernement, comme un bandit de grand chemin, dit à un individu: "La bourse ou la vie." Quantité de taxes, ou même la plupart, sont payées sous la contrainte d'une telle menace.

richer! Even after

As to the impact of all the “active measures” undertaken by Russia leading up to the 2016 election, it is difficult to quantify exactly how much they changed the outcome of the presidential race. However, according to the study by the University of California at Berkeley and Swansea University in Wales, automated tweeting alone by thousands of bots added 3.23 percentage points to Trump’s vote in the US presidential race.77

​Even fake things can make you feel good.

Mafia thug 3: It's raining cats and dogs here! Mafia thug 2: "For I'm a rain dog too". Mafia thug 3: Stay sharp. It's gonna rain somethin' else too when the cleaners show up. ----- Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne Part III: Waking Up from the American Dream CHAPTER THREE: A Mob-War

Mafia thug 3: It's raining cats and dogs here! Mafia thug 2: "For I'm a rain dog too". Mafia thug 3: Stay sharp. It's gonna rain somethin' else too when the cleaners show up. ----- Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne Part III: Waking Up from the American Dream - CHAPTER THREE: A Mob-War

From all this we can extrapolate three outstanding facts that are almost synecdoches of our increasingly clandestine world. 1.–The cocaine money laundered by Archbishop Marcinkus helped finance the death squads that killed Archbishop Romeros, who served the same God and the same church as Marcinkus: we are all living in a Le Carre novel. 2.–In the symbiosis between the Mafia and the CIA the mob thinks it is using the spooks, and the spooks think they are using the mob and one of them is terribly deceived. 3.–Bobby Kennedy broke off his affair with Marilyn when he learned, from FBI wiretaps, that the Mafia was taping his boudoir adventures. Contemplate that: while the Justice Department wiretaps the Mafia, the Mafia wiretaps the head of the Justice Department. It is more than a synecdoche; it is a Joycean epiphany.

Mack Bolan was not born to kill, as many of his comrades and superiors secretly believed. He was not a mechanically functioning killer-robot, as his sniper-team partners openly proclaimed. He was not even a cold-blooded and ruthless exterminator, as one leftist news correspondent tagged him. Mack was simply a man who could command himself.

Spring-tension hips were thrust high and forward and moving rhythmically for an even more disturbing effect.

Every feeling you have is part of you. If you feel numb, that's just a symptom of being you.

I’m proof that lost things can be found. Broken people can be put back together.

This isn’t about what is best, William. This is about love. You can’t design what a heart wants. Sometimes, it just beats for a person without rhyme or reason. I couldn’t force myself not to love any of you.

We are her boyfriends. Nick here is the angry, murderous psychopath. William is a rich, protective fuckboy. And I’m the lovable comedic relief with experience burying bodies.

Nick called himself Malice, and when it came to avenging my loved ones, I was Wrath.

Ruthie girl, how can I keep my girl happy if you’re gone?” he choked out before stroking her arm.

You said your name was Juliet Civella,” he whispered. “Let’s make that legal.

I’m saying I’m buying the biggest goddamn rock I can find and putting it on your finger. I’m saying I’m going to marry you with my brothers standing by my side, Juliet. They can figure their shit out if they want in on this, too.

We’d given Nick control, Anthony peace, and William acceptance. And they’d given me the greatest love I’d ever known.

But lately, everyone keeps leaving me. And I just need someone to stay.

I will spend the rest of my life regretting ever leaving your side,” Anthony replied. “You’re my girl. You’re my crazy, perfect, little psychopath. Strong and forceful. I can’t apologize enough. And I see the fear in your eyes every time you look at me. But I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. I could die tomorrow and still find a way to stalk you.

You don’t have to be a fighter right now, Juliet. I just want you to be mine. I thought you were ending us. You’ve called me Malice. You’ve called me Nick. A name doesn’t define a person, and your damage doesn’t define my love for you.

You’re mine,” he states as he rises from the floor and slides into the bed, covering my body with his.

Tell me, April.” He quietly yet firmly demands.

I’m yours.” I pant out.

He is dangerous, he is beautiful, and apparently, he is mine. And, I have no idea what to do with him.

Some people do things because they just like to see the world burn, little angel. And I happen to be one of them.

Fuck,” I whispered when I saw how awful I looked. My hair was a mess. I swore I’d at least patted it down before getting off the plane. But it looked like I’d been fucked and then fallen into a bird’s nest where I’d been pecked to death.

I mean, she had walked in on me getting a blowjob from another chick. But that was in the past. If I’d known she existed, there would have never been another girl. She would have always been my world.

Gabriel didn’t pout. He was perpetually happy, like a golden retriever. Unlike a golden retriever, he could change into a monster when needed, but even when doing his work, he was usually so fucking happy that it made me sick.

There are some secrets that have to stay buried. Everyone has something they keep hidden, even from the ones they love the most. Because once those secrets are out, nothing can ever be the same.

You’re more than anything I’d ever hoped for,” I tell her quietly. “I’d kneel for you and you alone. Me. A man who has bowed to no one. Just you.

You are my everything , Ayla. I just need you to wake up.

I finally had Ayla in my arms. she was safe she was with me - but she wasn't here. My angel was gone. In her place was an empty shell

Keep rubbing against my dick, and I’ll just cum in my pants. I won’t change, and you’ll know while you walk down that aisle that I still have cum all over me from what you did to me.

Raphael, I’m not sure why I have to say this, but if you ever fucking hide something about my wife from me again. I will kill you.

She laughed and I leaned forward, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. My list was already adding up, things I wanted to see her do. Smile, laugh, show me her boobs.

I sniffed at my hair, wrinkling at the smell of wet dog from the baths I’d given over the past hour. Oh well, I was coming here to argue, not to get fucked. Okay…maybe I was hoping I could get fucked.

sometimes, I'm convinced you're immortal." A smile played on his lips. "just diabolical.

Gianna would probably applaud my shooter.

You’ve been sick a lot lately.

I’m so angry with you, Alexis. I’m angry with you for betraying me, but I’m even angrier with you for showing me a version of life that I could have had and then ripping that away from me.

You made yourself utterly indispensable to me and then put me in a situation where I was forced to do just that. I don’t need you any less than I did a month ago, or a month before that. I need you now more than ever, but because of what you did, I can’t go to you like I want to. I miss you. I miss you every fucking day, no matter how hard I try to hate you, or how much distance I put between us.

My mother used to say that when demons come to earth, they pretend to be angels, and they get away with it because nobody expects a beautiful demon,” he says, swirling the glass absently.

I love you so much more than I ever thought I could love anyone,” he says in a gravelly voice. Will you marry me?

Demons and angels share the same make-up, you see,” he continues. “The same genetic code. She used to warn me about meeting angels because there is no way to tell if they’re devils in disguise.