He was never meant to wear a halo.
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
He became her ruthless warrior—not because she asked him to be cruel, but because she saw the war inside him and didn’t flinch. Every enemy at her door met a man who had long since stopped believing in mercy. Every whispered threat ended in silence. He was never meant to wear a halo
Her Ruthless Warrior
“No,” he’d answer, voice raw as a wound. “I’m yours.” sharp and hollow
Instead, she handed him a blade. “Then fight for something worth the blood.”