Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

She thought her rent at the Mirage was low? That was nothing compared to how she lived rent-free in my fucking head.

My hunger to piece together her puzzle tethered me to sanity and fed the tiny part of me that still believed in goodness and humanity. It was the order to my chaos, the flame to my ice.

Trying to stay away from her was like the ocean trying to stay away from the shore.

Touching her killed me, then brought me back to life again.

The air in my lungs, the beat in my heart. In that moment, Stella was the only thing that existed.

“Like you’re the most beautiful, most remarkable thing they’ve ever seen.”

“It’s because you haven’t looked me in the eye since New York. Because you’re all I can fucking think about no matter where I am or who I’m with, and the thought of you hurt or upset makes me want to raze this city to the ground.” Soft, almost desperate viciousness coated his voice. “I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.”

“I’m not a jealous man, Stella. I have never envied someone for what they have or who they’re with, and yet…” My fingers glided down to her wrist. “I’m jealous of every person you smile at.” A brush over her fingers. “Every laugh I don’t hear.” My touch dipped to her knee and made a slow, languorous journey up her thigh. “Every breeze that touches your skin and every sound that pours through your lips. It. Is. Maddening.”

I wanted to etch every detail of her into my mind until I could close my eyes and picture her as vividly as if she were standing in front of me.

I’d given up any concept of distance between us. I wasn’t just fascinated with her—a puzzle to solve. Obsession felt simple to me now. I needed her.

Seventy thousand dollars for one moment alone with her. It was worth it.

“I could watch you count every grain of sand on the beach and it would be exciting.”

Not when I needed her more than my next breath, and not when I would rather cut off my arm than deny her anything.

Whether in heaven or hell, in dreams or real life, Stella was mine.

“I want to make a few things clear.” Christian’s lips brushed mine with each word. “Touch another man, he dies. Let another man touch you, he dies. Tell me I can’t touch you…” His grip tightened on the back of my neck as his voice dropped. “And I will fucking die.”

I didn’t care much for art, but if I could immortalize her in that moment as a painting, I would.

I believe in everything when it comes to you.

“Do you want to know another secret, Stella?” My voice was unrecognizable in its rawness. “I can’t say no to you.” Not when it came to the things that mattered. “But I will always be here if you need me, no matter how far in distance or time. I don’t care if we’re on different continents or if it’s five, fifty years in the future. I never want you to wake up and feel like you’re alone, because you’re not. You’ll always have me.” My eyes burned as my final, greatest truth scraped up my throat. “I love you. So fucking much.”

I would rather be miserable now after having been loved by you than be happy without having ever known you.