Wrath (Malice Mafia, #2)

by Coralee June

But oddly enough, my humanity died when I fell in love. It was the price I had to pay for selling my soul to three monsters.

Anthony, Nick, and William still fought over me, but Nick? Nick claimed me. He destroyed the competition.

If Juliet needed a break, then she could take a fucking vacation on my cock.

“You’re out. Done. If I see you in my territory again—” “You’re kicking me out?” There was a sobriety in his tone that hadn’t been there for weeks. Good. Let it fucking sink in. “If I see you in Kansas City, I’ll put a bullet through your brain.”

“You think I don’t know every hair on your head? The color of your skin when it bruises? The fear in your eyes? The way you tremble when you’re scared? I know every fucking nuance of your body, Juliet. I know your mind. In fact, I’ve crawled inside every fucking crack in your soul and built a home for myself there. Not only did you lie to me, but you insulted our relationship by pretending I couldn’t see how much you’re suffering right now.”

In the end, he taught me a valuable lesson. Money was just another word for power. The powerless scream. Wealth whispers.

And with those parting words, he spun around, grabbed my cart, and strolled toward the checkout counter like he didn’t just finger fuck me on aisle nine.

Malice and I had become pen pals. Except we weren’t writing letters, we were just mailing a necklace back and forth. Every night, I’d drop it off in his mailbox, and every morning, it would be back in mine.

Gentle, gentle, gentle. In and out. In and out. I was going to do better. I was going to be better. I was going to be worthy of this beautiful woman I didn’t deserve.

Vicky was a motherfucking liar. Anthony was a dead man. William was about as useful as wet tissue paper, and my ass? My pathetic ass was pussy-whipped.