Magnificent BastardBy: Lili Valente
Picture this: it’s a rainy spring day in the city. The streets are covered with a fine layer of mud and soggy garbage, the sun is a distant memory from another, brighter time when you were still stupid enough to believe in happy endings, and you’ve just been dumped so hard your heart looks like it’s gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.
You’re ugly crying in a corner with a box of wine and a chocolate bar the size of your forearm, wishing Prince Charming would come swoop you up on his white horse and carry you far away from all those nasty memories of Mr. Wrong, but I’m here to tell you, ladies—
You need to stop that shit.
Stop it. Right now.
Why? Because Prince Charming is a crock of shit. Like unicorns, mermen, and other fairy tale creatures, he doesn’t exist.
When you’re down and out and your heart has been ripped to shreds by an asshole with a dickish-side a mile wide, you don’t need Prince Charming. You need a man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, a man who can teach Mr. Wrong a thing or two about what it feels like to be deceived, betrayed, and laid low by the one person in the world you thought you could trust. What you need is a Magnificent Bastard, your very own one-man vengeance machine.
Love isn’t a fairy tale, sweetheart; it’s war, and now you’ve got a soldier with an anti-asshole missile on your side.
Want to ruin your ex’s reputation? No problem. Every true asshole has a few skeletons in his closet and I specialize in spring cleaning. Want to send that human come stain to jail? A little harder, but often still possible. I only accept cases involving the very worst examples of mankind, the most miserable liars, cheats, and scoundrels. Truly terrible people tend to be good at covering their tracks, but I’ve delivered exes in cuffs before.
Want to make your former lover green with envy? Make him wish he’d never kicked you off the love wagon, spat in your face, and walked away? Well, that, cupcake…
That’s what I’m best at.
I’ve been blessed with a face that turns heads, worked hard for a body that inspires shudders of lust at twenty paces, and honed my envy-inspiring skills into a razor sharp weapon I wield with ruthless efficiency. I will make you feel like a queen and ensure your ex doesn’t miss a minute of it. You’ll be treated like a treasure, pampered like a princess, and kissed like a slut who can’t get enough of my magnificent dick.
In reality, of course, things between us will never go further than a kiss, but your ex won’t know that. He’ll see your flushed cheeks, lust-glazed eyes, and wobbly legs and think I’m giving it to you hard every night.
He’ll imagine my hands on your ass, my fingers slipping between your legs, and your pussy slick just for me. He’ll imagine you screaming my name while you ride my cock and remember all the times he was lucky enough to be balls deep in your incomparable snatch. Before long, he’ll have a jealousy hard-on so bad he’ll come crawling back to you on his belly, begging for a second chance.
But you won’t give it to him.
Did you hear that?
Even so, it bears repeating—
You. Will not. Give that loser a second chance.
By the time I’m through with you, you will know deep down in the marrow of your bones that you’re better than that. You’ll realize that you deserve a man whose eyes won’t wander, whose hands won’t hurt, and whose heart belongs to you and only you. You’ll be able to look down at the sniveling, pathetic, limp-dicked excuse for a man you used to love and tell him that he has no power over you.
Not anymore. Now you’re free to move on with your life without any of the bad breakup, psychic baggage.
And that, gorgeous, is the most important of the services I deliver. I give you back to you, the only person who can be trusted to steer your course as you ride off into the sunset.
But if for some reason, you break this all-important rule, if you sour the gift you’ve been given by going back to Major Dickweed, don’t bother contacting me again. No amount of money will convince me to pick up the phone.
A Magnificent Bastard intervention is a once in a lifetime opportunity. One and done, no exceptions.
Not even for her, the woman who made me break all my rules, the woman who made me think—for one amazing week—that even magnificent bastards can live happily ever after.