Man With The Twisted Lip

"Where is he?" He asked as he titled his head and glared down at me. His scar on the eye made him look even more horrifying. I wonder how many scars he has on that face of his which he hides. I was terrified but I tried my best to stay calm and composed because his mere presence makes me want to run away and hide somewhere where he can never find me but I fail to hide and not only I risked my life but his too. "He...is not w-with me." I said and he raised his right eyebrow where the scar stood proudly. "Really, hazelnut?" He asked as he caressed my cheek with his pointed knife, knocking my soul out for a fraction of a second. *** Sebastian Martinez a 27 years old, cold, stern and brooding leader of a gang named 'the scars'. He hides his face from the world but his eyes are enough to send people down hill. The scar on his eye defines his ruthless acts. Not a killer but enough to traumatize you. But is he only a gangster or something far more dangerous than that? Aurora James is a girl who stays in her own life as a writer but also has a small boutique. Her life is normal and she has lots of dreams to achieve but her past keeps haunting her down. What will happen when fate will bond these two in the most unexpected way?

TRIGGER WARNING: The book contains highly explicit and detailed depictions of sexual abuse, including childhood abuse, grooming, and assault. It also addresses severe trauma, self-harm, suicide, physical violence, substance abuse, and emotional and physical pain. Reader discretion is strongly advise. -------------- Tales who have a strong obligation to live no matter what, was taken as a sex slave because of his mother's debt to an organization, and he was being subdued by what he despise the most, gangsters, but because of his poor physique he was tossed aside and will likely be killed. That's when he tried to murder the boss, if he'll gonna be dead, might as well take the boss to hell with him. His naive thinking and strong sense of living captures the interest of the delinquent Ra Ja. 'You completely turned me on. ' Is what he said after being stabbed by Tales on his left hand. Ra Ja then makes him as his personal bodyguard. Can't figure out what the man is thinking, Tales can't help but be wary as he devise a new plan to escape the lion's den while carrying the head of the leader. Will his plan be successful or will it go astray and takes him to unfamiliar bloody dark path? A lot of secrets will be uncovered. What he thinks he is now might not actually be him. But seems like he's not the only one scheming the next move. Raja kept making actions that will drive him mad, crush his will and push him to the corner with no escape. A thug of war with rotten love, prideful altercation and bloody relationships.

The final race would decide everything: win, and I'd make the national team; lose, and I'd be kicked off the racing team. Twenty-eight years ago, my father was crippled by the same man. His spine was broken, and he never stood again. Two hours before the race, I saw him crouching beside my car with my own eyes. When I went over to check, I found the brake line had been cut and the brake fluid had been mixed with alcohol. The method was exactly the same. My father had waited in his wheelchair for twenty-eight years. I crouched down and stared at the severed brake line for a long time. Then I stood up, wiped away the fingerprints, and put on my helmet. I didn't report it. I didn't change cars. I didn't tell anyone. Because I wanted him to watch with his own eyes— To see how he'd be sent to hell by the "loser" he despised. The engines roared. The green light came on. I released the brake and floored the throttle. The moment I shot forward, I knew— This car's brakes wouldn't last past the seventh lap.

I was on the verge of unbuckling his belt when he pulled away so forcefully I stumbled forward, disoriented by the sudden loss of contact. My core throbbed, my nipples could cut diamonds, and my skin was so sensitive even the brush of air caused me to tremble. But when the fog of sensation dissipated, I realized Alex was glaring at me. “Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his scowl fierce enough to make grown men quake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Alex—” “No. What the hell were you thinking?” he bit out. “Did you think we would fuck in the kitchen while your friends are in the other room?” Heat scorched my cheeks. “If this is about Josh—” “It’s not about Josh.” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a slow, controlled breath. “Not entirely.” “Then what is it?” He wanted me. I knew he did; I felt it, and I’m not just talking about the massive bulge straining his pants. Yes, Josh would attempt to murder us both if he found out what happened, but he couldn’t stay mad at us forever. Besides, he didn’t return to D.C. until Christmas. We had time. “It’s me. And you. Together. It won’t work.” Alex’s glare intensified. “Whatever fantasies you have of us swirling in that pretty head of yours, kill them. That kiss was a one-time mistake. It’ll never happen again.”

“W-what a-re you...what are y-you doing?” She stutters as he pulls her even closer to him. Balancing herself, she puts her hands on his shoulders while looking up at him as he smirks seeing how flustered she looks but he doesn't miss the fear in those grey eyes that leave him speechless everytime he looks at them. “I'll come back for you.” He said. Lisa can't even respond as he kisses her, she kisses him back but pulls away almost immediately, she pushes him away. She can't believe she just kissed another man who isn't James in their home. She doesn't even know him. He smirks and grazes his finger on his lips while looking at her. “Next time I kiss you, you won't be pulling back.”

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”