Romans & histoires Sin City: A Dame To Kill For

“If I do this, I want something in return.” Damian raised an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate, sweetheart.” “You want me to be your asset? Fine. But I need a guarantee. Once this is over, I walk away clean.” Damian studied her for a long moment. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled. “I admire your nerve, Sinclair.” His expression darkened, amusement giving way to something more dangerous. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking you can dictate the rules of this game.”

“So let’s not pretend this evening hasn’t shifted.” She glanced at Damien briefly as he stood at the back unmoving. “I’ve known Damien Sinclair since I was twenty-one years old. And I’ve seen him in every shade a man can be. Cold. Brilliant. Relentless. And yes, in his younger years, reckless.” Murmurs stirred. Phones hovered. “But I’ve also seen him do what very few men with power ever bother to do.” She let the pause stretch. “Evolve. This photo is not a revelation. It’s a relic. A desperate attempt to weaponize a past he doesn’t deny. But I stand here tonight beside him, not because he’s perfect, but because he fought like hell to be better than he was.”

She could just share it with anyone so that I would feel more threatened to do her bidding. My phone chimed with a text notification from Madison: “Your 24 hours are up, baby.” I dumped the phone back on the table and looked out the window. She had me by the balls now, and I needed to play into her court if I wanted to get her favor. Especially that video. I didn’t like the way she held it over my head, and it was just a matter of time before she held it over Isabella’s head. Madison was unnecessarily vindictive and should not be trusted, which is exactly why I need to get my hands on that video she held so firmly over my head.

Releasing my claws, I dug my fingers into his eyes to remove eyes before swiping at his throat, killing him instantly. Damien was impressed with my ability to kill without holding back and I felt more powerful after killing the alpha. But I only wanted Sinclair dead.

Damien and Elise kept quiet for a moment before stepping out of the restroom. Damien asked her to sit down, while he went to the door. As he opened it, he was surprised to see the cops and Elise's parents. "What are you doing here?" Damien inquired, baffled. "Mr. Damien Sinclair, you're under arrest for the rape and death of Late Miss Emerald Sinclair," The cop said, bringing our handcuffs.

He nodded as he slowly stood up and left, when he got to the exit point, he looked back and said, “You deserve to die Sin for killing Kendra your mate.” Sin began to breath heavy as he started to shift into his wolf, After he shifted completely in seconds in ran across the room quickly pushing me to the wall and landed few blows to my face before he put the sword through my chest. I fell to the ground, struggling to breath, when I turned to look at my mate she was struggling to talk but her mouth was covered with tape, The pain surged through my whole body as I tried to stand but couldn't. Sin began to laugh devilishly, he kicked my ribs sending me back to the ground as I tried to pull the s

"Let me hear destiny weep because it couldn't win with us. Let me hear the doors of heaven close on me because I shall continue to sin for you." I knew what he meant by sin. I could see Damien's burnt body in my eyes, the pictures on the reports, the way he had ruined Damien and his family. And I knew he wouldn't stop. Yet, I stayed here. Maybe I loved to hear the terrified noises of all the forces that failed against me.

We're stronger together. Responses came within hours. All of them. All six. Wanting to talk. To meet. To share. We arranged a video call. Evening. Private. Seven boxes on screen. Seven faces. Seven victims. "Hi," I started. "I'm Delilah. Thank you for. For being here." Introductions. Names. Ages. Backgrounds. Sarah. Romance author. Mid-thirties. Marcus. Memoir writer. Late twenties. Jessica. True crime. Early forties.

“I know exactly who you are, Dmitri Morozov. The big bad mafia boss who thinks the city belongs to him. Newsflash, I don’t belong to you." His men shifted uneasily. Some smirked. Others looked at me like I was already dead. But Dmitri only stepped closer, towering over me, his presence sucking all the air from the room. The heat of his body made my nipples tighten traitorously against my thin dress. He smelled like whiskey, smoke, and raw, masculine power. His hand rose slowly, fingers brushing my jaw with deceptive gentleness before gripping my chin hard enough to sting. He tilted my face up, forcing me to meet those icy eyes.

"You're not going to let that go, aren't you?" "Nah," I murmured. "I was there for business," he explained. "Does it have anything to do with the gun on your waist?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. Damian smiled and reached between us- grabbing the handle of his gun and pulled it out. It was my first time seeing one up close and I realised that I might have treaded the waters too deep. Damian could quite literally kill me with a flick of his finger.