All Chapters of MY TABOO STEP DADDY : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

24 hours later. 10:51 pm, Fijidale. [TRISTAN’S POV] Selene gave me another clue—features I could trace to my target— Takeshi Dmitri. She’s getting used to trauma exploitation. She no longer fights me out of her head after I promised to release her when I’m done with my mission.Carlton grimaces as we step out of the car and into the building. If only he knew his best friend is alive, maybe he wouldn’t hate me much. The guard nods, scans my fake ID, and gestures us in. Foolish man. I’ve killed men in quieter rooms than this. The auction hall used to be a cathedral. You can still see it in the ceiling: stone arches climbing into darkness like someone once believed heaven might actually give a shit about what happens down here.Now it smells like perfume, alcohol, and money.Real money.The kind that buys politicians, judges… and graves.Carlton walks beside me, looking around like a tourist who accidentally wandered into hell. “Holy shit.” Women in leather harnesses weave throug

(TRISTAN’S POV)Carlton gasps, palms flying to his mouth. He looks at me, then back to Takeshi. No words form. “Enough now.” I nudge Carlton away. One revelation at a time. Carlton is unstable, and too much can overwhelm him. Soon, he’ll know all there is. “Please, I beg you…” Takeshi crawls back on his elbow. “Delinda made us do it. I—”I swing my hand. The blade cuts his neck clean. Takeshi chokes, clawing at his throat, red soaking his shirt.Carlton doesn’t scream or cry like he did when I tortured Kendrick. He observes the scene with a blank expression. Good. He’s learning. Takeshi convulses and goes still on the floor. Dead. I squeeze the dagger handle. I want to torture him. Make his death slow and agonizing. But he’s guarded, so as much as it pains me, justice is served. Two down. Seven more to go. The smell of blood still clings to my coat. I wipe the dagger on the dead man’s sleeve, but the coppery scent refuses to leave. Carlton’s breathing is ragged beside me, b

[TRISTAN’S POV] Pleasure. pure, consuming, relentless. It slams through me like voltage, frying every nerve ending from my cock to my spine.Every fiber in me screams to move. I prop myself on my elbows, abs clenched tight, and force myself to watch—his lips stretched around my cock, eyes watering, determined.Fuck. The sight alone could kill me. But the sounds—Christ, the sounds. That obscene wet pop every time he releases my cock, the desperate intake of breath, then the slick heat swallowing me whole again. Like my dick is the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.I'd burn the world to ashes for him choosing my cock over his pain. Using me the way I've used him. Fair's fucking fair.“This boy is going to be the end of me,” I groan, bunching the sheet as heat coils deep in my stomach. I reach for his head—not to stop him, Christ no—but to steady myself. Just one fucking second to remember how to breathe.Bunny shoves me back onto the sheets and doubles down—harder, deeper, f

[CARLTON'S POV]"You swore to hurt him, now you're fucking him after all he did to you?" Damon scoffs beside me, his steak still untouched. "I thought we were best friends."I choke on my food, my eyes burning.Damon shoves a glass of water toward me. I gulp it down in seconds.His laughter is forced. "Thought you'd choked on something bigger?"Blood rushes to my cheeks. I glance at Tristan, currently glaring daggers at us from the head of the table, and pinch Damon's thigh hard.He winces. "Stop.""You've got a loose tongue," I whisper, voice sharp. "You don't say everything out in the open.""Facts." Damon swats my hand away. "Bitch."My grip falters on the fork, and my heart races. I stab my steak once, twice, fighting the urge to bury the knife in his thigh."You hypocrite," I spit back. "Two wrongs don't make a right."Damon rolls his eyes dramatically. "Oh, now you accept you're wrong.""Ugh.""Don't 'ugh' me." Damon's gaze holds malice as he looks at Tristan sitting at the head

[CARLTON’S POV]He doesn't answer immediately. His jaw tightens just slightly. "God stopped answering."My ribs feel tight."He let my sister die." Tristan says it like he's stating a fact. The sky is blue. Water is wet. God abandoned him.I don't know what to say to that."So I stopped waiting for him."“And became this?" I gesture at him.He glares at me. "No."A pause. "I became the devil."The way he says it isn't dramatic. It's just… fact. "God can go fuck himself."The words land heavy in the quiet church.I swallow the lump in my throat. "Who gave you that name?"His brows furrow. "Mad Bishop?"“Yes.”He nods once. "Yosef."Jealousy flares, sharp and unwelcome. I hate that I feel it. Hate more that he sees it.His mouth curves. Of course he noticed. Again. "Jealous?""Of your archdemon? Never." The lie tastes bitter.He steps closer. Close enough that I catch it again: that mix of whiskey and smoke and something clean underneath. Something that's just him."I only have eyes