Eden would have been chewing on her nails if she had nervous habits, but instead she stared straight ahead from the back seat of the black Town Car currently carting Cristian to the closest hospital. He was stretched out with his head in her lap, blood smeared all over her clothes because he simply had to be that annoying and dramatic about his impending death.
He had better live long enough for her to carve her pound of flesh from him. Eden glanced down at the man. His eyelids were fluttering, chest stuttering with every breath. He was slowly but surely drowning on his own blood - the struggle following the gunshot must have exacerbated and torn the wound. He really did need to get that lung reinflated if she was going to have her way with him later.
Which brought her to the real proble
