The Sinners Novels & Stories

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.

“No! Let me go! No! Don't do this! No!!” “Why are you pretending to be chaste when you're already damaged goods? Accompanying us brothers tonight and giving us some fun is your honor. If you act too stubborn, don't blame us if we kill you afterwards.” One of the thugs said in a voice filled with disdain. “Then kill me now!” I shout back, but they won't stop. I feel the warm wind against my back and realize they already tore my singlet. “Nooooo!” My voice is strangled, full of desperation and sorrow at the thought of losing my chastity at the hands of these monsters.

“He doesn’t even remember what happened back then. Does that bother you?” “I…I guess it does. A bit.” “Why?” I scoffed. “Are you trying to turn this into a therapy session?” My tone was light, desperately wanting to change the topic. But there was no bullshitting Dante. “It bothers you my dear friend because you know deep down that your revenge means nothing if the poor boy does not even know the sins he’s atoning for. And when you really look at it, Beneditti is the one you should be punishing.” “I am punishing him,” I gritted out.

Chapter 3: Sacrilegious Surrender The weight of our escalating sins pressed upon me like the stone walls of the convent, unyielding and cold. Each dawn brought the tolling bells, calling us to prayer, but my devotions had twisted into something profane. From the pulpit, I spoke of redemption, yet my gaze lingered on Elena during mass, her form shrouded in black but her posture betraying the subtle shifts—thighs pressing together, cheeks heating under the veil. She was unraveling, her faith fracturing under the onslaught of desire, and I reveled in it. The priest in me recoiled, whispering of damnation, but the man—the dominant force she'd awakened—yearned to push further, to bind her not jus

Guilt weighed me down, and I couldn't drag my legs to the estate to see them. I knew my parents were alive and well. I intended to keep it that way – three, six, ten years from now. I got to work immediately. Now, I crossed the room wearing a simple cotton gown. "Let's see" I mumbled, bending a bit to pick up the files. I skimmed through them quietly, my eyes drinking in the content. The Sins were seven, but only six were documented. I knew of Roderick Blackstone, Sin of Greed, Fabio Rabbia, Sin of Wrath.

I cut him off. The words came out sharp and direct. I wasn't interested in preambles. I wasn't interested in carefully constructed sentences. I wanted a straight answer and I wanted it now. Eric looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded, like he had expected exactly that. "My name is Eric Carrington," he began, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a different weight entirely. "I run one of the largest criminal syndicates in this country. I control a network of underground operations across the city—the casinos, the clubs, the trafficking of weapons, territories, everything that moves in the dark in this city moves because I allow it to.”

“I saw the way his eyes moved over our bodies when he greeted us. He wants us. Trust me, I could see the hunger in his eyes.” They rushed back home, hiding their purchases carefully. Once inside, the twins offered to help with dinner. “We’ll handle it tonight, Mom,” Clara said sweetly. “You relax with our stepdad.” Sara crushed several sleeping pills into their mother’s wine glass, stirring it until it dissolved completely. Clara also slipped two strong Viagra pills into Vincent’s drink. Sara's hands trembled as they served the food, but neither Vincent nor Lena noticed anything. Vincent asked the twins about college and their plans after school as they are. The girls smiled and answered, bu

Elias’s POV The warehouse smelled of oil, gunpowder, old blood, and men who had stopped giving a shit about the law a long time ago. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in a sickly yellow that made the shadows look deeper. I stood in the middle of the open floor with my hands loose at my sides, trying to look like I belonged. Shoulders relaxed and breathing steady. The name on the fake ID in my back pocket said Eli Vargas, while the badge locked in a drawer across the city said Officer Elias Kane. Six months of undercover work, three different covers, and more sleepless nights than I could count had led me here—into the heart of Roman Voss’s operation.

But the world she tried so desperately to ignore had finally reached out and dragged her into its jaws. The underground ballroom beneath the ruined opera house thrummed with dark elegance. Massive chandeliers dripped crystals like frozen tears over tables draped in black velvet. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey, expensive cigars, and the metallic tang of barely concealed violence. This was the Syndicate Auction — an annual gathering where the criminal elite settled scores, forged alliances, and traded lives as casually as stocks. Politicians, mob bosses, arms dealers, and tech overlords mingled here under a fragile truce. One wrong word could spark a war. One high bid could c

“I’m taking you to your home. I need your address.” I laughed—loud, hysterical, broken. “There’s no home.” I shook my head, the words spilling out messy and raw. “The only things waiting for me there are boredom and loneliness. They’re sitting in the darkest corners of that place, and I don’t want to talk to them.” Something in his expression shifted. Softened for half a second, like he actually understood. He exhaled through his nose. “Then let me take you to mine.” Quiet. Final. “You need to rest.”