r the Napa Valley vineyard. "Do you, Ethan Lester, t

g for. Five years. My pro-gaming career, my savings, all of it po

said, my v

o her. "And do you,

inished th

isheveled. Ryan Clark. Her college ex-boyfrie

asped, clutching his

opping from mine. "Ryan?

"I have to tell you. I'm sick, Nicole. The doctors.

the one my best friend Andrew warned me abo

"pact," spoke in my mind. Condition chec

of horror and a sick kind of romanticism. This

his knees. "Not like this. Just give me one last cha

o. Look at me. This is our wedding." My voic

imple: win her unconditional love, or the dormant glioblas

eyes were locked on Ryan, the failed musician from a

he whispered, her voi

elped Ryan to his feet and they disappeared through the rows

Loyalty parameter at zer

my head was c

d. Estimated time

ss washed over me

. You have been granted one

. This was the final move. My revenge wou

es, a bitter s

my head, "for Ryan Clark's supposed tumor

wledged. P