Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

If my thoughts were chaos, she was my anchor. They always went back to her.

The number of times people asked me why I didn’t have a boyfriend yet was proof of that. Like my being single was a problem I needed to solve instead of a choice I’d made. Like my lack of a partner somehow meant I was lacking.

Romantics didn’t look at someone like they wanted to devour them until there was nothing left except ashes and ecstasy. Darkness and submission.

“Careful, Stella.” His low warning pulsed between my legs. “I’m not the gentleman you think I am.”

Some photos were worth a thousand words. This photo said only one. Mine.

One only had to look at the fucked-up justice system to realize the law was nothing more than a house of cards, created to give its citizens a false sense of security and weakened by doorways open only to a select few.

I wondered what she was dreaming about and whether said dream included me. If not, that was unacceptable.

I’d turned thirty-four last week. We’d celebrated with a weekend of food, sex, and me eating her pussy out until she came on my face. It’d been a good birthday.

Part of me had anticipated this crash from the beginning. My relationship with Christian had been too perfect, and nothing that good could last forever. What I hadn’t anticipated was how much the crash would break me.