Erin Moriarty Ruined Her Face Novels & Stories

He muttered studying the wound. The puncture would need to stay open. The knife had missed anything major. The bleeding had nearly stopped. Morgan sat on the desk admiring his face. He was a mess covered in blood and just had his whole world shattered for the second time. The last several months of his life was a lie but here he stood caring for her. She had never met anyone like him. She watched him mutter to himself something about the water that had not yet come. He glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow to her. “Problems?” He asked her mimicking the same tone she had earlier.

She looked startled too as her mouth was open and tears were still streaming down her face profusely. One and only Madison Connor, now a waitress and... "Honey, you're not saying anything. I'm ruined, this lady has just spoilt my night honey and you're just staring at her without doing anything. People are staring, the cameras..." At the mention of cameras, Damien snapped out of his trance, giving Madison one last glance before dragging his gaze away from her. His look immediately turned from confusion, to one of pure disgust and hatred, as the pasts came rushing back. The hurtful things she and her family had done to him, how she had betrayed him and...

“Maybe she wanted to start a family and Uncle Damien was like, I’m too old for this shit or something.” Dax gave a small, thoughtful nod. “Could be. Who knows.” Lily stayed silent, guilt overwhelming her. She knew the truth. Everyone tried to process the sudden absence of the woman who had rearranged an entire house. Conversation revolved around her from speculations to mild relief to pity about Damien now being alone again. Lily heard none of it clearly. A slow, rolling wave of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach without warning. It climbed her throat aggressively. She had to press her lips together while she stared hard at the plate of eggs Melanie had placed in front of her. She stood

I pulled in my chair and tried to keep on a confident expression which was hard what with seven intimidating giants staring at my every move. I cleared my throat while I slumped back in my chair, plopped my arms up onto the table, and spread my legs out in a not so ladylike manner but for fuck sake, I'm Valentina Gianna Marino. I'm anything but ladylike. I just sat there for what felt like an eternity which in reality, was only a couple of seconds before big intimidating man finally broke the silence by clearing his throat. Everyone's heads shot towards him, he was clearly the one who everyone listened to.

“I... haven’t watched the whole thing… But I saw enough.” A knot tightening in my throat as I stare at her. I know what she is talking about. “It’s... it’s not consensual,” she chokes out, her voice barely audible. “And there are other men in the room, just standing there... laughing.” A sharp pain stabs through my chest as anger and sorrow coil together. “I swear to God, I will find them all and give them a slow death. Every single one of them.” She nods, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I have cropped some faces from the video. Maybe it can lead to someone or some location.It felt like enormous disrespect, yet I thought it was important.”

Her irises lowered and traced the marks on most parts of her body, mocking her ruination. "Why?" Her damaged soul complained. Why was she so helpless? A stranger came out of no where and ruined her whole life in a night. Her mind pledged her body not to smile ever again. She lost her reason to survive. She wasn't living anyway. After demise of her parents, she was merely surviving yet this right was also taken from her. After yesterday's night, what was the purpose now? Her blurry eyes studied the surroundings. The door was unlocked and open, illuminating the whole room with bright light.

Aria Moretti was not what he expected. Most women in the mafia world telegraphed their fear—wild eyes, shaking hands, broken voices. But the girl chained to his basement wall was fear distilled to delicate perfection. Too perfect. Her brown hair fell in soft waves, long and silky, sticking slightly to the tear-streaks on her flushed cheeks. Loose strands clung to the curve of her jaw, framing a face that was almost unsettling in its softness—high cheekbones, full mouth, a small, elegant nose.

Inside, a stranger had entered my ruined moment and made it more complicated. “You can help me,” he said, “or you can refuse. But I can’t let what happened go unchecked.” My body wanted to refuse. My mind wanted to run. But there was a voice in me that had learned to keep fighting—quietly, however it could. “I want the footage,” I said. It came out like a small verdict. “I want to know who did this.” He didn’t flinch. “No, Jane. I know who did it.” The air thinned. “You… know?”

“Well, look at you. Didn’t get yourself killed.” I shot him a glare, still too shaken to respond. He let out a low laugh, pushing off the car and walking toward me. “I’ll give you credit. You’ve got more guts than I thought. But don’t get too comfortable. Moretti’s a coward, but not everyone in this world is.” “I know,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. Viktor raised an eyebrow, looking me over like I was some interesting experiment. “So, what’s the verdict? He paying up?”

She looked very ugly not that she was proud of it. “Wow…I look like a tramp..” She admired her messed up ugly looking face. “A face as ugly at this…he won’t even bother remembering me.” Sherry was happy since that meant at least she won’t be recognized by the man. “Well…it was a nice change of pace.” Sherry was now more clear minded than before. The accident from before made her forget briefly about the pain in her heart and the cheating incident as well. Pain.... It again reminded her of her cheating fiancé.