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WHOSE PERFUME IS ON YOU?!
publish date:
2026-01-02 04:32:43
Latest chapter
MY TABOO STEP DADDY I'M HERE, BUNNY.
[TRISTAN’S POV]“Do you know what It means?” Rusev growls, inching closer. “No.”"Your people."“No.""Your fucking men, Tristan!" His voice cracks like a whip. “You betrayed me!” Something inside my chest splinters."That's not possible." My voice sounds hollow even to me."Then explain it." Rusev's tone is ice and rage. “I should’ve known you were a reptile. Two faced. A cold, bloody bastard. She loved you like a son, you SCUMBAG!” Seo pulls back Rusev, his hand digging into his husband’s shoulder. “Easy.” Seo’s tone is calm. “Breathe, Rus.” Rusev clutches Seo’s palm, breathing in slow, heavy exhales. “Do you know?” I rub my forehead. My hand comes away bloody from the split in my brow. "I was in Moscow. I was captured—""By the gerontophiliac, Dakor." Rusev's eyes drop to my groin. "He did you dirty, didn't he?" His gaze flicks up again. "Your daughter too. Even your pet.” Every muscle in my body goes rigid."And your men were there with you," he continues. "Am I lying, Tris
MY TABOO STEP DADDY DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS?
[TRISTAN'S POV]Detectives.I fucking hate detectives.But these three? They scare the shit out of me.They're already leaning against the hood when I step out: long black coats soaked through, fedoras pulled low, shoes too polished for this muddy shithole. They look relaxed, casual, like they're waiting for a bus, not ambushing a man in the middle of nowhere.But their eyes? Their eyes are hunting.I shut the car door. Slow. Deliberate.The Bugatti's engine ticks as it cools, steam curling from under the hood. Burnt rubber hangs thick in the air from the tire I couldn't fix. Rain stopped ten minutes ago but everything's still wet: the ground, the trees, my bare fucking chest.Cold bites into my skin.Behind me, Carlton shifts in his seat. I feel his stare burning holes through the window."Stay in the car," I say without turning."I thought it was 'we' now." His voice cuts through the door, sharp with attitude.My jaw clenches. "Not this, Baby. Bratva business."He moves like he's a
MY TABOO STEP DADDY CUM FOR ME, DADDY.
[CARLTON'S POV]"They're heading toward us." I squeeze Tristan's thigh, feeling the muscle tense under my palm. "No, they're coming for us."He moves like a snake, Glock yanked from his waistband, barrel clicked, and loaded.Tristan shifts in his seat until his massive frame blocks me completely, then rests one hand on the door handle. Ready."No." I jerk him back hard.His weight slams into me, two hundred pounds of scarred muscle crushing my chest. Hot skin. Rain-slick. The ridge of his spine digging into my sternum.My treacherous cock hardens immediately.Fuck my life.He's shirtless. Every scar, every tattoo, every thick vein running under prison-pale skin is pressed against me. I can feel his heartbeat. Fast. Ragged. Or maybe that's mine."Baby..." His voice rolls over me like whiskey and smoke.Something drums against my arms, hard and frantic. His pulse? My pulse? I can't tell anymore because I'm hugging my father's killer from behind and my body doesn't care about that fact.
MY TABOO STEP DADDY Who are they?
[TRISTAN'S POV]The rain doesn't just fall. It attacks. It hammers the Bugatti's roof, drowns the gravel road in seconds, turns the lake beside the church into something violent and churning. The wind tears through the trees hard enough that branches crack and scatter across the ground. Everything smells like wet earth and gasoline and something metallic I can't place. Blood, maybe. Or just the storm eating through rust on the car's undercarriage.The front left tire is completely gone, deflated, fucked. I'm crouched in the mud, one knee sinking into cold sludge, breaker bar locked onto a lug nut that refuses to move. Rainwater runs into my mouth, my one good eye, blurs my vision until I can barely see the fucking bolt I'm trying to turn. My hands are numb. My shirt is soaked through, clinging to my chest and back like a second skin.I pull.Nothing."Tristan, what the fuck are you doing?!" Carlton's voice cuts through the storm like a blade.I don't look up."You forgot the pliers
MY TABOO STEP DADDY ALONE IN THE RAIN.
[DECLAN’S POV] I nod once, fair. “Nina, please.” She shakes her head, and gestures toward my stomach. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a bullet wound." “Yes, but—” "You're being hunted," she continues. "Your father and the commissioner, those aren't people we get involved with, Dec." "Nina," Bolton snaps. "That's Declan you're talking to." "I know exactly who I'm talking to." "He helped us—" "I know what he did!" Her voice rises now, sharp as steel. "He helped us with Jayden's surgery. I haven't forgotten that." "Then—" "But that doesn't mean we throw our lives away!" She scoffs. The words hit harder than they should. I shift slightly. Pain flickers through my side. I don't react. Nina reaches into her bag, pulls out crumpled notes. "I have two thousand." She steps forward, holding it out. "Take it. Find a hotel. Somewhere else." Bolton stares at her. "You're serious?" "Yes." "Nina—" "No!" She places a hand on her belly. "You think this is a joke? You thi
MY TABOO STEP DADDY You cant stay here.
[DECLAN’S POV]The food burns my tongue, but I don't slow down. Rice. Lamb. Something with spice that makes my eyes water.I shovel it in like I haven't eaten in days.Bolton watches from across the small table, arms folded, brow creased like he's waiting for me to choke."Slow down," he mutters. I ignore him. Take another mouthful.The lamb's overcooked. Doesn't matter. It's real food. The kind you sit down to eat. The kind you forget exists when you're tied to a chair in Moscow, wondering if the next hour's your last.My throat tightens.I reach for the gin, take a long drink. The burns going down. Good. I need that.Bolton shakes his head, tops me off without asking. "Easy.""Yeah."I don't mean it. “Oh man.” He sighs.The house is small. You feel it without trying: Two rooms. One narrow hallway. A sitting room that bleeds into the kitchen. Old couch with a spring poking through the cushion. Telly that probably works when it feels like it. Toys shoved into corners: plastic sold
MY TABOO STEP DADDY HE'S BEEN HERE ALL ALONG?
(CARLTON’S POV)Ducking behind the pillar, I watch Yosef stride toward the garage, Tristan’s hounds trailing after him like he owns them. Like he owns everything here. Yosef looks great tonight, nothing like the Archdemon he is, the kind of conventionally handsome that makes people stop and stare.
Last Updated : 2026-03-26MY TABOO STEP DADDY THE CHURCH SLASHER
(DECLAN’S POV)The wail of sirens fills the air. A few officers scatter around, knocking on doors and stopping people who were at home, and might have witnessed or heard something. Others record license plates of cars in the area as passers by gawk at the scene, some pushing at the tape, while offi
Last Updated : 2026-03-26MY TABOO STEP DADDY DON'T JUDGE ME.
TWO WEEKS LATER. TRISTAN’S POVI don’t belong in a church. Angels will flinch if they see me here. Demons will scream in recognition. I can almost hear God’s breath—ragged, pissed—In the creak of the iron rafters above. A bible shouldn’t be spread open between my thighs. Neither should I join ha
Last Updated : 2026-03-26MY TABOO STEP DADDY HE LEFT!
(CARLTON’S POV)I can’t feel my throat. Can’t feel my face. Only Tristan’s cum coating my mouth, the taste burning in the back of my throat. One minute I’m stabbing him, and the next I’m choking on his cock. I sneeze, droplets of cum glistening on my palm. I’m worse than Damon. I’m sick. But I’m n
Last Updated : 2026-03-26
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