On the nights Monet would spend with Law, he never slept. He wouldn't leave the bed while she was awake, but when she woke up, he would always be gone and the place beside her cold. Of course he didn't trust her, not even to dare rest around her. She didn't mind. It was not that she trusted him either, but he knew better than to kill her in his sleep and ruin his plans.
It didn't matter, anyway. This twisted association between them would come to an end very soon, and they both knew it.
