Wrecking Ryland
Krystal Saturday night came faster than I f*****g expected. Good. Because I was ready to *destroy* Ryland Johansson. He thought he had the upper hand? Thought he was the one pulling the strings, f*****g with my head, testing my patience like I was some goddamn puppet for him to play with? Fine. Let him think that. Let him *believe* he was in control. I’d let him *watch* me tonight. Let him f*****g *burn* for me. Then I’d leave him choking on his own goddamn desperation. I took my time getting ready, making sure every little f*****g detail was *perfect*. The dress I picked? Black. *Satin*. Short enough to tease, tight enough to *kill*. It hugged my body like a second f*****g skin, cutting low in the front, dipping lower in the back. I was walking to *kill*. A
- Writer
