Novel & Cerita Sinners Of Saint Series

“Do not speak of Him like that.” He studied her—slowly, intensely, like a predator circling prey. “Then tell me. Why didn’t you run the moment you heard me curse? Why do you stand here, trembling, but still listening?” Her mouth opened. Closed. Words failed. Finally, she forced them out. “Because… because sin must be rebuked.” “Is that what you’re doing, Sister?” His voice dipped into a dangerous whisper. “Rebuking me? Or savoring me?”

“Because I don't think God judges me, nearly as much as you do right now.” I exhaled sharply, willing myself to remain unaffected. “What is your name?” “Sienna.” She purred, her fingers trailing against the wooden pew beside her. “Sienna Rush.” She had the name of a sinner and the body of a Goddess. A dangerous combination. “And what brings you here?” She took another step, closing the space between us as I could see the mischievous gl in her eyes. “Curiosity.” “About faith?” “About you.”

"We are both going to punished once when we get caught. We need to be extra careful." Ang dapat sanang matatakot ako dahil sa kaniyang sinabi. Hindi tuloy nangyari. Bagkus, parang mas gusto ko pang gumawa ng bawal... ng masama. Para lang marinig sa kaniya ang ganoong kataga. Selfishness or self-will is the manifestation of sin. True love is the antidote to self-centeredness. You will not commit sin with them or tempt them to commit sin if you genuinely love them. "Kung ako lang ang mapaparusahan ay ayos lang, kaya ko naman. Pero paano kapag saiyo na? Hindi ko mapapatawad ang sarili ko, Amari..."

“Are you going to punish me? Tell the Mother Superior? Or…” “No one else is involved,” he cut in quietly. “This stays between us and God. But penance is still required, Ciara. Real penance. Not just words in a booth.” He pointed at the open book on the table. The pages were handwritten in neat, careful script. The title at the top of the visible page read *Repentance for the Sin of Lust*. “Kneel,” he ordered. My knees folded before my brain even caught up. The stone floor was cold through my thin dress. I knelt right in front of the table, the book inches from my face. The candle flames flickered across the words.

he said in a low, dangerous voice, “then we are completely fucked.” The altar in the center of the chamber pulsed brighter. New words burned themselves into the stone floor in glowing crimson letters, forming the first demand: “First Offering: The Altar of Seed. Produce your lust upon the altar. Cum. Squirt. Offer your pleasure. Only then will the next door open.” The voice returned, calm and merciless, as if it had been waiting for their denial. “Refuse… and suffer the consequences.” Tyler snapped again. “Fuck you!” he shouted at the ceiling. “I’m not jerking off on some demonic rock for your entertainment!”

My best friend here won’t allow anyone to touch what’s his. Two of our better casinos—Seraph and Obsidian—span over thirty-three out of the fifty states. They pull in more money than I can count. I don’t care about losses and wins. But disrespect? That gets my attention. Theft that isn’t from me or my men? Even worse. And I won’t have some slimy bastard believing he can get away with it. He either pays tonight, or the motherfucker dies tonight. There is no in-between. “Relax,” I say. “I want him found. Alive. And in my office before sundown.” I emphasize the alive part so he knows just how serious I am.

“Or the nearest I could get to you.” “Do you hear that? My brother filled his life with whores and women who looked like you. You were his obsession, Keeley. Oh, the things I could show you. Pictures of what he made those women do. What he imagined doing to you.” He cackled. “He dressed them up as you, made them answer to your name. He fucked them. Used them. But the one person he wanted to do that to was you. His saintly Keeley. So far above us sinners that….” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Do you want her to remain the saint you put on the pedestal, Gio?” “Yes.” I didn’t even hesitate.

“That’s… not appropriate.” “Is it a sin to notice beauty, Sister? God made you beautiful. Seems wasteful to hide it under all that black cloth.” Each session chipped away at her armor. Marcus was clever, articulate, and disarmingly honest about his past—violence born from a brutal childhood, choices that spiraled out of control. He didn’t ask for pity. He asked for understanding. And in return, he offered her something dangerous: undivided attention, raw masculinity, and words that lingered in her mind long after she returned to the quiet safety of the convent.

And, while everyone else was in a frenzy, Don Fabio didn't notice that a red light was flickering on his head as he continued to yell angrily. “Quello stronzo... Seth! Mi vendicherò! Tornerò a tutti! Tu e la famiglia Corpuz— (That asshole…Seth! I’ll get my revenge! I’ll get back to everyone! You and the Corpuz Fami—)” Don Fabio couldn't finish what he was about to say when a bullet pierced his head, causing him to collapse where he was standing. Nobody knows what happened to the don because everyone was too busy trying to put out the fire in the vineyard. Don Fabio's blood spilled onto the floor while his eyes were wide open.

the Father orders. “I don’t know his name,” he swears. “Christian,” I offer. I’m a fucking traitor… but so is Chris. This is all his doing, his unraveling scheme. I can see that clearly. He swore he wasn’t out to make slaves of our civs, yet there are at least three, separate, intentional thralls of his rounded up for this interrogation-style execution. Another innocent woman is dead, it is Christian’s fault, and we will all the rest of us be put in the ground, unless I go begging on Sicillio’s mercy and help him to diffuse the situation. “I know it sounds like blasphemy, but you have to believe me, Father. The master of these thralls…” I swallow. “It is the saint, Christian.”