Novel & Cerita Masked Sins

Season 2 Synopsis of Sinful Escape By DB Novels She was betrayed. Framed. Broken. Now she’s reborn. After surviving the ultimate betrayal by her husband and lover, Sera Carter sheds her name, her face, and her past—emerging from prison as the ruthless and mysterious Arianna Vale. Love? That word died the day Raven and Ethan kissed in front of her cell. Now, she doesn’t trust. She doesn’t feel. She seduces, manipulates, and destroys. Every man she kisses, every deal she makes, every move she plans—is fueled by a single burning desire:

He had that cocky stare but when he looked at me, he had a guilty stare that made him look away. “I'm so…s…ss…sorry, p…please, forgive…me.” The man before him trembled as he pleads and bite his thumb, chewing it as he vibrated with every move. He continued the act continuously five more times and turned to stare at Draven with a pleading eyes. “Your thumb isn't off!” He said coldly and he cried. “Please., please spare me whoever you are, I'm begging.” “Cut the the thumb off, waste another second, your middle finger goes next!” Draven ordered and he shook in dread, leading his thumb to his mouth and giving a hard but that made his bone cracked and blood sputtered.

Perfect. “See you soon.” He’d written it himself, fog blooming from his mouth in the cold like smoke from a sermon. She’d see it when she came home, her pretty mouth falling open in that little O of shock he used to love so much. She thought she was safe with that big bastard in her house. Cute. She thought she was strong now. Even cuter. Eden Cross had carried his sins once without even knowing it. Signed her name to accounts she’d never opened. Smiled beside him in church while his assistant—God bless Tiffany—warmed his bed after evening service.

MY SIN What actually led me here What have I done Could I have saved him Was I scared or stupid Am writing to free my guilt But reading this script Literally pricks my conscience All I did was watch But I feel my ignorance was a sin And it haunts me daily I’ve always been wary But this blame was mine It was halp past nine On that cold dark night A scene pictographed in me My eyes met him afar His heels were in motion His eyes were red Filled with undeniable fear He was limping His body filled with shivering He kept on struggling Being aware of his doomed fate Because of his faith An opposition of religion Which innovated destruction An environment where ethnicity Has disrupted ethicality And

The memory of his face, that was so open and honest, was a phantom that haunted my waking moments. I could almost feel his hands in my hair, his lips against mine, and the phantom sensations were so real that they were almost more painful than my physical wounds. I tried to build a wall of hate, telling myself he was the enemy, a Malcovich bloodline, but his image persisted, a phantom of kindness in my memory. I felt a consuming loneliness, trapped between my mission and the man who should have been my target.

If his holy cock was pressing against his cassock right now. “Father Damien,” I whispered, “I am touching myself right now. In your confessional. My fingers are inside my pussy while I talk to you. I am so wet.” A low, tortured groan escaped him. The sound sent a thrill through my body. “You are sin incarnate,” he said hoarsely. “You are tempting a man of God.” “Then punish me, Father.” My fingers moved faster. “Or better yet… come over to this side and punish me properly.”

“No, I’m okay with not knowing.” “Amelia, we need to know.” Marcus said as he unbuttoned his jacket and tucked his hands into his pockets. I looked from him and then back to Louis. “Sin won’t hurt Louis.” For some reason I didn’t believe him, I thought about the scars on his shoulders and torso. My mind was made up at Sin’s next words. “He likes the pain though.” Sin said tilting his head, “Almost as much as he likes the pleasure.”

My breath caught in my throat as I realized the severity of the situation unfolding before me. “Why do people beg when it’s time for them to pay for their sins, huh?” one of the masked men sneered, running a finger along the barrel of his gun as he towered over the helpless figure. “Because they’re pathetic,” the other masked man chuckled darkly, his laughter echoing eerily in the quiet street, sending shivers down my spine. “Hey, brother, would you like to do the honors?” the first masked man asked casually, gesturing towards the trembling victim.

We talked and laughed, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Just as we were in the middle of our conversation, the door creaked open, and a tall, dark-skinned man walked in. My head instinctively turned to greet him. Just as I raised my face to greet him, I felt a jolt of recognition run through me. It was the same guy from the masked party! I couldn't believe it; I had unmasked him in the washroom while we were kissing. I didn't know I'd remember his face ever again.

“We begin immediately.” Lex moved closer to god and stared into the hole in the mask. The masked man looked into the detective’s eyes. What’s he doing? “Dear God, plunge torment into the nostrils of those that blaspheme in your name, tarnish their existence and make them worthless in the artwork of the great universe.” Blood began to gush from the masked man's throat. The blunt of Lex's pocket knife was covered in blood. The four Sons grimaced. “What have you done?” One of them screamed.