All Chapters of STEEL'S CURVY SIN & SECRETS: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

ADRIAN MOREL I never thought I’d find myself nervous about meeting a woman. I’ve stared down men with guns at my throat, I’ve signed death warrants without blinking, I’ve ruled men who’ve slit their throats at my nod—yet as Boyce led me toward her, my stomach twisted like I was a boy waiting to confess to a schoolmaster.“She’s not like anyone you’ve met,” Boyce warned, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “And for the record, Adrian, don’t underestimate her. Everyone else already made that mistake. Steel. You. Even me.”I scoffed, because what else was I supposed to do? “Boyce, you talk about her like she’s some… apparition.”He smirked. “No. Worse. She’s real. That’s why it hurts more.”The sound of gun bullets snapped my attention. She is at a shooting range. It wasn’t a movie—fashion, modeling but she was dressed down to the nines, in a beautiful body and even more attractive than what she looked like on screen so I'm beginning to understand why they're all obsessed with her. All I

MELISSA I’d gotten used to sneaking in through doors, used to shadows and whispers and soft bedsheets I shouldn’t have been tangled in. For three years, that was my reality with Jaden and Jasson — secret, sacred, sinful. It had always been just us, our private bubble that no one could burst yet I always prepared myself for the day we got caught; the boys had insisted we went public after my dad caught us but I wasn't ready neither was I sure that they took us seriously and I thought I had time until she walked in.Sin.The woman who raised them, the woman who had unknowingly been sharing me with them, their mother, my godmother, my idol whom I adored with my whole heart and the one person I wanted to come clean to before she caught us in this compromising position. The red of her coat seemed to blaze in the dim apartment light, her eyes sharper than any blade, her silence louder than thunder. My lungs forgot how to work properly, Jaden’s hand dropped mine like it was burning coal. J

TYLERThere are offices that breathe life, and then there’s my father's Damian Valorti’s. His own office didn’t breathe, it scares the crap out of me.The curtains were too gloomy for warmth to sneak in, the carpets too thick for footsteps to make a sound, the air too stale from cigar smoke ground into polished mahogany. His desk was as big as a judge's bench, his throne elevated above his level, and his presence—my father's presence—filled the entire room with the solemnity of a cathedral where his gospel was the only law and there I was in front of him, his blood in my veins but his shadow upon me."You seem bothered," he said to me, never looking up from the glass of whiskey that sat in his hand. His voice was like that velvet one, the sort that made you forget the razorblades sewn into the fabric."I am," I said, my jaw locked in a tight square.He smiled, never looking up. "I can only hazard a guess as to why."I shifted my weight. I did not wish to be here, in this manner, but o

STEELI lit up three cigarettes on the drive back to my club, one after the other, the window cracked enough to let the smoke whip out into the night. None of them calmed me down at all. Sin walking away like I wasn’t worth a damn breath still burned a hole straight through me.By the time I parked and stomped inside, the bass from the speakers rattled the walls and the smell of liquor clung to everything like perfume gone sour. My people nodded at me, moved out of the way, like they could sense the storm rolling off me. I ignored them, heading straight for my private booth.Except someone was already sitting there.An older man, sharp suit, silver hair slicked back, posture like he owned every damn room he walked into. Adrian Morel. My uncle. I've seen enough pictures from Knox to know every single face in the Morels and this man is the shadow every whisper in this family seemed to circle back to.He was sipping whiskey like he had all the time in the world. And spread across the tab

SINThe motel was as low-budget and decrepit as I never could have dreamed it would be because Steel is a lot of things but a brokie is not one of them; the lights were dim and buzzed like a dying insect, and the parking lot smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke. I should have left. I Ought to have gone back to Catalina's villa, refilled my wine glass, and reminded myself something I should have learned years ago—Steel is poison—that he has always been but my legs carried me on before I could dwell on my thought because in spite of all, this man is my first love, father of my children and love of my life no matter how mad I am at him.His room door was open, held back by a chain that strained to snap if you breathed too hard. My hand was shaking as I pushed it wide, and I smelled it first—soapy and acrid, sweat, the bitter reek of desperation, and beneath it, the stench I hated myself for identifying as well as my own skin.Steel.He sat on the edge of the bed, dripping hair from