His Death Bringer: The District

He calls me his dark angel, but I’m merely a killer. A bringer of death.
Luca Davenport: He is my angel, sent to be my death bringer to save me from my tormentors and betrayers—those who sold me into slavery when I was only eight years old. Angel came in with guns blazing and black wings that were made to crush his enemies and envelope me in love. He belongs to me, and I belong to him. We are destined. After he saves me from my captors, we hunt down the remaining men who had abused me for eleven years to make them pay in blood.
Dante Varga: He is a broken boy of no more than nineteen. He sees me as an angel, but I’m simply a killer. An assassin for hire. I can’t save him. I can’t take care of him. There’s no room left in my dying soul to care about someone. Not anymore. But I can’t turn him away either. I should kill him. He’s a witness. But I feel compelled to protect him at all costs. Saving him will either shatter the ice around my heart or destroy me. Either way, Luca is dangerous.