Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)

by Ana Huang

I recognized that voice. I’d heard it only three times in my life, but that was enough. Like the man who owned it, it was unforgettable.

“Get in the car, Stella.”

AHHH we love this

It was the sound of my name in that voice, delivered with such calm authority that my body obeyed before I could protest. For a man I barely knew, he had more power over me than almost anyone else.

I’d always been self-conscious about my height, but Christian’s powerful presence wrapped around like me a security blanket, drawing attention away from my Amazonian frame.

Ugh I already love this dynamic. Sings to my soul

Memories of typed notes and candid photos turned my breaths shallow before I blinked them away.

I cannot wait to learn more about this

Not only for helping himself to my liquor but for his less than amusing show in the lobby. I didn’t like people touching what was mine.

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

Twin flames of resentment and frustration burned in my chest. I was weak for Stella Alonso, and I hated it.

“Touch Stella again, and you’ll no longer have a fiancée.” I slammed the door in his face. Dante was my first client and an old friend. I didn’t provoke him often. But like I said, I didn’t like people touching what was mine.

And my gut told me that when it came to men like Christian Harper, the less one owed them, the better. Because eventually, the payment would come due, and it would cost more than all the money in the world.

“Good. And don’t worry, Ms. Alonso.” Laughter remained in Christian’s voice as he lifted his glass to his lips. “I don’t believe in love.”

That’s what they all say

Every ounce of his attention had redirected toward me, and I could feel the weight of it on my skin like a lover’s rough caress.

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

Green eyes. Green dress. Symbolic of life and nature. Green. Apparently it was my new favorite fucking color.

There were no unimportant details when it came to Stella.

It felt wrong to touch her when I was this on edge, like my darkness would seep through my touch and devour her light.

“Because I don’t want to be jailed for murder if anyone touches a hair on your head.”

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

Alex and I had standing chess matches at the Valhalla Club every month for the past five years.

I’m sorry… the past FIVE YEARS??

She was dressed for bed, with not a stitch of makeup on her face or jewelry adorning her limbs, but she glowed so brightly it reached the darkest corners of my soul.

We always expected our external world to reflect our internal one, but it was situations like these that reminded me the world would go on no matter what happened to us individually.

“Touch her for any reason other than to save her life, and you die.” I didn’t care how long Kage and I had been friends. No one touched her except me.

That and a world without Stella in it was one that didn’t deserve to exist. 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. Without it, I would be unmoored, and that would be the ultimate danger—both to myself and the people around me.

In the absence of visual distraction, he consumed me.

Dangers lurked in the night, but those shadows seemed to disappear whenever Christian was around.

The irony of me cleaning Stella wasn’t lost on me. She was the purest soul I knew, and I was neck-deep in blood. The angel and the sinner. Two oppositional forces with nothing binding us except a sheet of paper and the unquenchable need in my soul. I didn’t deserve to touch her, but I wanted her too much to care.

It’d either been an inside job, or the stalker had inside help.

Okay, a thought. What about the doorman guy who commented on her outfit when she went out on a date?

but I didn’t fucking appreciate her telling me she didn’t care if I went out and fucked other women. Like I’d been able to focus on any other woman since I met her. I’d lasted less than a day trying to stay away from her.

I wanted to unravel every thread that made her her and lay them all bare so I could examine them. Figure out what it was about this woman in particular that entranced me when there were thousands who were objectively just as beautiful and who desired me more.

“If you saw yourself the way other people see you,” he said quietly, “you’d never doubt again.” Curiosity and something infinitely sweeter and more dangerous fluttered to life in my heart. “How do other people see me?” Christian’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “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.”

Stella had seared so deep into my consciousness that she was all I could smell. All I could feel. And even when I closed my eyes, all I could see.

Because when I claimed Stella as mine, I would do it so fucking thoroughly there wouldn’t be a shred of doubt in either of our minds as to who she belonged to…or who I belonged to in return.

It wasn’t in my nature to sit quietly when faced with injustice done to me, and every fucking slight against Stella was a slight against me.

There were few things more uncomfortable than being a tall person in economy.

Ugh preach

“Can’t you look up everything you want to know on one of your fancy computers?” I was only half joking. “I’d rather hear it from you.”

Few people trusted me enough to close their eyes when I was in the room, and here she was, cuddling against me like I was a damn teddy bear. Completely unaware of the violence brewing only inches away.

But if there was one thing both sides agreed on, it was that she was mine. And now that she was in my life, there was no letting her go.

Darkness was always drawn to light, but I wasn’t just drawn to her; I was fucking obsessed. I would throw myself into her flame and let it burn me alive if it meant her warmth was the last thing I felt before I died.

Of course, I knew she must’ve been naked in front of other men before—just as I knew I wanted to peel the skin off said men’s flesh and leave them to rot beneath the hot sun for daring to lay their eyes on her. No one would ever be worthy of her.

I seriously love this man

I may not be her first, but I would damn well be her last. Because once I took her, I would never let her go.

Stella was made to be my queen.

“I didn’t realize you noticed what I was wearing.” “I notice everything about you.”

Because as rough as Christian was, I’d never felt safer.

I guess that was what happened when girls with a need for academic validation grew up. They developed a praise kink.

this is so real 😭

But the more I got to know her, the more she embedded herself into my being.

I made the decision without thinking. It seemed my default setting was giving Stella anything she wanted. I hoped no one ever discovered this weakness. It would be catastrophic for me and for her.

“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 thought it was obvious, but in case it isn’t, you’re mine, Stella.” His touch branded my skin with hot possessiveness. “I don’t want to see other women, and I sure as fuck don’t want you seeing other men.” Ice frosted the word men. “You belong with me. Exclusively. There is not a world or lifetime where that’s not true.”

My life would be so much easier if I could move on, but I know I can’t. Even if you never forgive me. Even if you never talk to me again. Even if you move on. I’ll still love you. You will always be my first, last, and only love.