My Hooligan Boyfriend

[Prologue]

Tao saved my life the day I met him, and saved it twice again before he finally killed me.

It’s a chance happenstance: I was in a seedy little pub on the edge of Montmartre, drowning my sorrows in a cocktail of ale, when a stranger sat down next to me and slang his arm around my shoulders like we’re old friends. Beneath the table, I felt the point of a dagger pressing against my ribs.

I knew what he wanted, of course—money—and it’s a pity for us both that I have none.

“Nice and slow, put your wallet between us then leave.” The rough man said. It stung at my side, when he tried to show me this was no joke. I winced and tried to tell him that I’ve spent the last penny only few days ago, but obviously, he doesn’t take no for an answer. He decided to rough me up as a punishment for my poverty.

“I don’t have –uh”

After that, all I knew was that suddenly there was a searing line of fire along my side, before the warmth from the man with the knife was gone.

Over the honking in my ears, I couldn’t hear the yelps and shrieks behind me. Someone was shouting. He griped the hooligan by the collar and growled something into his face. I didn’t hear his words, but the rough did, and he paled. I was dizzy, so very woozy and wobbly. The only buck of bl