Stolen By A Sinner Novels & Stories

"Where did you leave your high morals when you sneak into my office room and stole the file?" Ana flinched and her eyes snapped at his way when she heard his voice resounded in the room. His hard gaze fixed on her making her heart drop in the pit of her stomach. Watching her, he straightens his head. Sweat beads formed behind her neck. Yes, it a sin. To steal. But when Blaze asked for it, in desperation to get away her mind didn't think in the other way that she was going to commit a sin. The girl in her naivety didn't even enquire him how would the file help them to escape. He asked, she did.

I cut in, “A woman who had the misfortune of crossing paths with you. And what did you do? You tortured her, made her beg, made her suffer. All in the name of what, Giovanni? God?” He recoiled as if my words were physical blows, “She… she was a sinner,” he choked out, the words tumbling from his lips like a confession. “She tempted us… tempted me… It was her fault, her evil. We were just… we were just cleansing her soul.”

Maria, ever watchful and apprehensive, stood by his side, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and defiance. Realizing that his ploy might buy them some time from his relentless siblings, Asmo sought out a car to commandeer. Despite Maria's objections, he revealed the true nature of the parking lot – it belonged to Satan himself. Asmo figured that it was unlikely Satan would come looking for them in his own domain. Once Maria understood they were stealing from the one described as a liar and a thief in biblical texts, she reluctantly allowed Asmo to proceed with his dubious plan.

I crossed my arms, tilting my chin up as my stubborn pride took over. "Get your facts straight, Mom," I said coldly. "I’m a stripper. I dance. I don't sell my body." It was half a lie and half the truth, especially that I just fucked a client last night, but there was no way in hell I was admitting that here. Father Edmund’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. He took a slow step closer, his tall, broad frame completely towering over me. "Whatever label you want to give it, what you are doing is wrong," he started, his voice going deeper. "You are risking your soul for fleeting pleasures. But it is not too late to turn to God. He can forgive even the darkest paths if you choose to repent."

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.

He wasn’t allowed to see me naked whenever he got an opportunity. “You were sleeping, I didn’t feel like waking you up so I took you here and got you in these…” He gestured to my nightwear, “By these…sinful hands,” I sighed heavily. At least he knew he was a sinful man. A night had changed everything about him in my eyes, from a gentleman to a pathetic man, it was a true journey of hatred.

“You may call it a mistake, Jude, but the truth is, you wanted it. You gave in. Don’t act like I forced you. You kissed me back. You touched me. You can’t erase that.” Her words stab at the wound already bleeding inside me. My knees weaken, and I grip the doorframe for support. She is right. I gave in. I can’t deny that. I step into the washroom and shut the door behind me, my reflection staring back at me from the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, my face pale, my lips trembling. I have sinned. And the worst part is, I can’t take it back.

It was another man, with similar features to Damian but younger. I found myself stumbling to the passenger seat, just as Santino picked Victor up by the back of his neck with one hand. Holy fuck-blood was gushing out of his crooked nose, messing all over his chin and chest. I cringed, looking away as I sat down in the seat. "You got it, capo," Capo? Damian was about to sit down in the drivers seat, and paused when he realised that he couldn't fit. He gave me a look,and I returned it as I pushed it back giving him the space that he needed.

However, it was evident that my vision was failing me. "El, you've gone through so much over the years," Ivor choked back sobs as he stood beside me. To help me see him better, he leaned closer and guided my hand across his face, tracing the outline inch by inch. "You've grown old. You've all grown old." My voice was raspier than ever. Wiping a tear away with deep sorrow, Jeffrey gently ran his fingers over my scars. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. My little El has suffered a bitter life; she truly has."

Knowing she could not dally anymore, she shouted, "Okay, okay! I will tell you the real truth now! Just stop!" Laura's dark skin now seemed to sag, weighed down by the crushing burden of her secret. Her grey hair appears dull and lifeless, like a veil of shame cast over her face. Her brown eyes, once warm and loving, now filled with tears, brimming with a deep remorse that threatened to spill over. Her voice trembled, a barely audible whisper, as if the words themselves were toxic, poisoning her very soul. "Tristan, I, I stole you," she stammers, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down, daring him to confront the truth.