Sin Of Pride Novels & Stories

“I’ve been thinking I’m special. That I own a piece of you. I need… correction.” He understood. The hunger had evolved. The initial frenzy of possession needed structure, a liturgy of its own. Pain was the sacrament she craved. “Stand up,” he ordered, his voice low and devoid of its priestly cadence. It was the voice of a master. She obeyed, her eyes downcast. He picked up the hairbrush, running his thumb over the smooth, cool back. “Pride is a mortal sin,” he intoned, circling her. “It must be beaten out. Count.”

18+ | Mature Content Not every desire is meant to be confessed. Some begin with a glance. Some with a secret. Some with a single decision that can never be taken back. Behind closed doors, people become the versions of themselves they hide from the world. A forbidden attraction between two people who should never cross the line. A secret affair that starts as a game and slowly becomes an obsession. A dangerous man who discovers the one woman capable of making him want something other than power. A harmless crush that turns into something neither of them can resist. There are bosses and employees. Professors and students. Lovers, strangers, friends, enemies—and people who

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.

I'd gone to his study to surprise him, only to find him bent over the design schematics for our rings. The original "Amor Aeternus" was crossed out. Replaced by that new line of Latin: Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. My sin, my greatest sin. Five years. The guilt had never left him. Her shadow still loomed over everything between us. "Isabella?" the priest prompted gently. I lifted my head and looked out at the crowd. My father, Don Rossi, his eyes filled with expectation. The Moretti council, sitting ramrod straight, waiting for the answer that would end a decades-long war between our two families.

His body is rigid, ready to break if it means shielding her. “Both of you are done,” he snaps. “She isn’t a prize. She isn’t a weapon. She’s a person.” It’s a good speech. He even believes it. But belief doesn’t change this kind of math. “Blake,” I say quietly. “Please move.” He doesn’t. He squares his shoulders, jaw locked. “Not this time.” I let the silence hang. He thinks he’s won something by standing still. He doesn’t realize stillness is the easiest thing to break.

I knew for a fact that none of those prayers would reach heaven. Then the service started. Father John began slowly, his voice deep, infuriating, and commanding, filling every ear and heart. At first, I believed I could survive it. Maybe if I didn’t listen, maybe if I did not look at him, maybe if I zoned out, I would be fine. Maybe I could actually endure. And then he began. “Sin.” I gulped. “Begins as a small seed, unseen, almost harmless. But if you ignore it? It would destroy your soul.

She gives me a small smile. "Commitment scares me." "Me, too." I agree with her. "Why?" she pushes. "The only person I can trust in this world is me." My hands move to her hips, holding her in place. "Every person in my life eventually fucks me over, no matter if they're blood or not." I frown at her comments. "My childhood wasn't rainbows and roses. And that look I'm getting right now from Ryan is the reason why I don't tell people more about it. Please don't pity me." Her words are terse.

“Aah.” I moan in relief as his hands go to my wet pussy. “Honey, we shouldn't be doing this,” he said abruptly, stopping and attempting to walk away, but I quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “I want this, Mac. Don’t you love me?” “It’s wrong, Bea. I want you, but it just doesn’t feel right.”

I wanted to apologize to him, but somehow my pride didn't let me utter those words. I slowly walked away from him and sat on one of the twin swings, thinking about my words. I'd never been one to speak without thinking. I was always calm and collected. But being with Adrian made me lose my control, which irritated me. I'd worked so hard to gain control over myself and appear collected. I didn't want one person to destroy everything just by being present around me.

I still have difficulty breathing and puke whenever I recall that scene, I killed a woman with my own hands after all and I will not be able to brush off the guilt my whole life. I had committed a grave sin at the age of 12, my mom died after three months of the incident when I turned 13 years old. At that point, in time, I thought that my fate would be the same as my mom and that woman if I did not get out of the shithole I am living in. That motivation kept me going up until now. I had to study hard, succeed in life and prove to the world that unlucky children can still manage to find happiness. *************