LOGINDate = 15 AugustA little later in the day.Place = San Francisco (Inferno)POV - EnriqueI touch my crotch with a groan.Abstinence from Aria is a crime against nature. Against art. Against manhood.She said we should not have sex before the wedding. She said it was symbolic. Romantic. Something ab
Alejandro shakes his head. “No.”“They’re probably squeezing in a quickie,” Jackson mutters, leaning back like this is all mildly entertaining.I shoot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. And it reminds me that I am absolutely having a conversation with him later.Alejandro lets out a strained la
“You still thinking about her?” I ask quietly.He doesn’t turn. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says.I let that sit between us. Brothers don’t need lies polished.“You went there to forget,” I say.He finishes, hands steady, movements practiced, and absentminded. He exhales slowly, tucking himself
“And look where that got us.” She points to her tummy, and he gets this stupid, proud smile on his stupid face.“Face it, angel, your man is a stud.”“As if it’s so difficult to make a bloody baby,” I grunt, trying to get past my slight nausea.“So you’re saying it’s as easy as riding a bike …” Dami
Date = 15 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Inferno)POV - EnriqueJust then, Mel wobbles up the last step, winded with a red face, with Damion holding her arm.“Sorry, we’re late,” Damion charms, “Your sister takes a while to walk up the stairs.”“She takes a while to walk, period,” Luke sneers. It ear
“You’re right,” River agrees, “but you don’t need to get married to do it. Damion and Mel are not married.”“The baby was an accident.” Luke walks forward with his usual smug, condescending smirk on his face.River rolls her eyes with theatrical flair, nudging at nothing with the toe of her pink boo
He drains the last whiskey, sets the glass down with a light force that feels like a full stop, and stands.“Keep the change.” He drops a wad of bills on the counter. “This talk did me some good. Thanks for that.”“Anytime, we’re here for the rest of the week,” I say automatically, slipping the mone
They dump me into the chair and leave me alone. No clock. No mirror. Just the low buzz of electricity and my pulse pounding in my ears.The door hisses open. A man steps in, sharp suit, colder eyes. I know him instantly.“Welcome to my home,” Captain David Maron says, extending his right hand, the o
The man huffs a humorless laugh. “The family I work for … there is … eh … was three boys.” The pause on ‘was’ prickles goosebumps along my arms, leaving me wondering what happened.Another sigh rattles out of him, heavy enough to shake the glass.“Brothers,” the man insists. His voice grows colder,
“Are you not sad that your boyfriend betrayed you?” she presses, her tone too sweet, too rehearsed.Sad? I’m fucking boiling. Lava simmers in my veins, blistering hot, but I tilt my head like she just asked me if I prefer red or white wine. “He’s not my boyfriend.” The words slip out of my mouth bef







