Sinner Sierra Simone Novels & Stories

14 Luciano “Capo, la mia signora è con quel tipo di nome Rory Johnson. (Boss, my lady is with that guy named Rory Johnson.),” Domenico informed me, I was looking at the monitor and watching them walking past my men looking at them with surprised eyes. I fisted my right hand as I saw her holding that candy fucker’s hand. I wanted to break his hands. How did he touch what I touched?! How dare he?!

Asking my little sister. “Uhhh… hmm.. Let’s try red. I want to be sexy but modest as well. Show a little skin but not have my body flaunting like Sierra. Don’t get me wrong, she’s attractive but I’m not comfortable dressing like that.” Sienna says likes she’s embarrassed of herself.

Then a cold mocking smile jumped on her lips. Declan pushed her behind him and got face to face with ‘The Sinner.’ “And when it comes to my woman, Mr Sokolov, I ends my enemy before he could take the next breath.” “Declan…” Sierra held his arm and tried to stop him. “Quiet!” He sneered at Sierra who jumped at his tone and left his arm.

Sienna whispered, the heavy syllables crashing into her fractured subconscious like a sonic boom. The name instantly triggered a violent sequence of corrupted archival images inside her mind. A phantom projection materialized in her focus—a dominant alpha pair locking their fingers together, pacing through an ancient, blood-drenched territory ahead of her line. The male turned his scarred face back toward her position, barking a silent command, his fangs flashing in a rare, affectionate smile before he locked his gaze back onto the northern trade route. Then the simulation fractured, replacing the territory with a high-security black-site medical bay. The same dominant alpha was pinned to an

Well, if Sierra could read his mind, she would have shouted, “Then have you been fulfilling your duties as a husband properly, Ace?” Good thing, Sierra wasn’t a mind reader, so Ace’s grumbling— only he knew about it. He took a deep breath as he looked at the meeting room door; today had to be better, and he had to win the deal. On the other side, yet still in the same building, Sierra was striking a chic and sophisticated pose. This time, she was serving as the brand ambassador for a cosmetic product. She posed as elegantly as she could, and her look was truly captivating— so mesmerizing.

Smoke poured through the vents. Her phone buzzed. Kira: Triggered mine. You? Sienna: Done. Heading to rendezvous. There was still one piece left. Dominic.

I shot my dad a quick text and was received poorly as he sent back an angry face and crying face emoji. “Good morning Miss Summers, Mrs. Murdock” the pilot says as he shakes our hands once we’ve boarded. “I’m Captain Reese and I’ll be flying you from JFK to LAX on this lovely day. The flight will be six hours today, so sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight.”

"No!!!" Tina was shrieking, "My baby!!! I'm so sorry!!!" Zach came rushing in. "What's wrong?! What happened?! What are you crying for?!" Tina could only keep wailing, "My baby… My baby!!!" Feeling a sense of foreboding, Zach walked up and unwrapped the swaddle to see that it wasn't my daughter, but the son they were so obsessed with! The bastard's cheeks were purple, and he wasn't breathing at all, clearly having been strangled to death.

I’m so sorry, whoever you are… my real mate. “Yes,” she choked out. The single word cracked like thin ice. Thorne’s deep voice rolled over the hall as he claimed her in return. The priest continued, but all Seraphina could hear was the roaring in her ears and the distant, eerie howling rising from the forests beyond the citadel walls. Those howls were not celebratory. They were war cries. Thorne’s hand settled possessively on the back of her neck, tilting her face up for the sealing kiss. His breath brushed her lips—hot, commanding.

Lila’s POV “SMILE,” Vivienne’s voice said from the speaker. “You look beautiful when you’re scandalous.” The sound of her voice through Jacob’s phone felt more invasive than the photograph itself. We were still standing on the sand. The wind had picked up, whipping my hair across my face, but I barely felt it. My eyes stayed fixed on the screen. On the image of us. On the proof that the one place that had felt untouched was not untouched at all.