Novelas y relatos de City Of Sin

“Sofia, honey, it’s not ‘bad things.’ It’s a normal thing. Every grown adult, unless something is medically wrong, experiences those kinds of desires. It’s part of being human.” Normal? My parents had taught me it was forbidden. The thought alone was a sin, a doorway to damnation. “But… my parents say it’s forbidden. That even thinking about it… It’s a sin.” Clara sighed, a mix of pity and exasperation on her face. “Sofia, your parents are… very conservative. Our bodies are designed for connection. Attraction and desire are natural. It’s how the world keeps spinning. The sin, as I understand it, is in hurting others, in deceit, in malice. Not in experiencing something so fundamental to our b

I’d seen it on grocery lists, scrawled across envelopes, the margin notes of books he borrowed and never returned even my fingers knew it before my brain did. And yet… it felt wrong to see it here. The paper trembled faintly against my grip, though my hands weren’t shaking. The tremor came from somewhere else, deeper, like my body had recognized the weight of it before my mind caught up. I set the note back down on the table, but it didn’t stay quiet. It stared at me, an accusation, daring me to move. Outside, the rain softened from a downpour to something steadier, a hum against the glass, less violent but more suffocating in its patience. The city was asleep, or at least pretending to be.

Las Vegas, Nevada, USA. “Ten thousand dollars.” “Twenty thousand dollars.” “Fifty thousand dollars.” “One hundred thousand dollars.” The shouts of lecherous men filled the grand auction hall in a city famously known as ‘Sin City.’ A city notorious for its sins, yet unfortunately, it’s everyone’s favorite. Dim lighting created an alluring atmosphere as guests entered the lavish auction hall. Everyone was required to wear masks. The only spotlight allowed was on the stage where—a beautiful girl stood as the object of the lecherous men’s bidding.

“But how can this be the end of the mafia? Are we really turning power over to another mob group?” Ronan smiled calmly. “The existence of a good world is only possible because of the existence of a bad world! It is impossible to erase the dark world. From time to time, a criminal will venture out of their squalid den, determined to sow discord and disrupt the peaceful atmosphere.” With a nod, the officers’ confidence surged. They knew the task ahead was a risk, but their determination outweighed their fear. “Remember, we are the protectors of this city. We won’t let it fall into the hands of the mafia. Let’s get to work.”

's go!" Anais responded excitedly. The fate of the city was uncertain but Anais was right; her cousin Ethan was evil and there was no assurances that he would defend the people. There must be another way to save the city and Maya was going to find it. **** It didn't take long before the guards realized that the Princess was gone. Lord Nogard was furious. He knew that without Maya, his goal of becoming King would be impossible to achieve. He needed to find her immediately! "You are all idiots!! The slave trader is here and he wants to see her! Find her!! Now!!" The Lord yelled at the soldiers. "Yes, my Lord. I have all my men already looking for her," the nervous captain responded. **** Far N

Paetyn’s POV I’ve grown to despise this city. Where I used to find joy in the small things, like the hustle of people rushing by, the scent of street cart hotdogs, and the anonymity of being among thousands of people who don’t know my name or story, now I can’t stand it. The people have become too much to handle, setting my nerves on edge, and the stench of hotdogs and mustard makes my stomach twist painfully. And I’m no longer entirely invisible after the scandal with Liam. It doesn’t help that I’ve been desperate to stay under the radar so my ex-boyfriend doesn’t find me.

But the world she tried so desperately to ignore had finally reached out and dragged her into its jaws. The underground ballroom beneath the ruined opera house thrummed with dark elegance. Massive chandeliers dripped crystals like frozen tears over tables draped in black velvet. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey, expensive cigars, and the metallic tang of barely concealed violence. This was the Syndicate Auction — an annual gathering where the criminal elite settled scores, forged alliances, and traded lives as casually as stocks. Politicians, mob bosses, arms dealers, and tech overlords mingled here under a fragile truce. One wrong word could spark a war. One high bid could c

I became someone I no longer recognized, a man burdened with sins too heavy for anyone else to carry. In time, my life spiraled out of control. The betrayal of my own conscience led me down a path I hadn’t anticipated. I left the military, lost to my own demons, and found myself entangled in the very world I once fought against. The mafia became my refuge, a dark sanctuary where I tried to drown my guilt, my anger, and my sorrow. I became a sinner—willingly committing sins, crossing lines I never would have imagined as a soldier. I justified it then, telling myself it was all I deserved, that I was beyond redemption. But deep down, I was trapped in a web I couldn't escape.

It was exactly midnight. Dante was sitting in front of the operation room, pressing his hands together while looking up in the ceiling. “I know I am a terrible person. I have committed a lot of sins and I don’t deserve to be forgiven by you.” He spoked. “But Victoria and the baby inside of her are innocent.” Tears started to gather around the rim of his eyes. “So please God, if you actually exist, please save both of them.” He was holding on to the necklace Victoria was wearing last time. He knew what it was, one of the item that was supposed to be auctioned at Sergio’s auction.

The fire started small—a tiny spark under the bar counter. By the time anyone saw it, smoke was already crawling up the walls. The palace wasn’t a Fang bar, and wasn't a Viper bar either. It was the kind of neutral ground where bikers, truckers, and drifters came to forget the rules. The kind of place that survived because no one was stupid enough to claim it. Until tonight. Marco Delgado stepped out of the back door, sleeves rolled to his elbows, cigar glowing between his fingers. Behind him, three of his men poured gasoline like it was holy water—marking territory through destruction.