Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)
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Read between October 12 - October 14, 2025
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Adult friendships took work and conscious effort to maintain, but the ones that stayed were the ones that mattered most.
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He paused at the fuzzy purple unicorn propped against my couch pillows. Amusement filled his eyes. “Cute.” “Cute?” I tried not to sound too insulted. “Mr. Unicorn isn’t cute. He’s beautiful.”
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“Careful, Stella.” His low warning pulsed between my legs. “I’m not the gentleman you think I am.”
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Green eyes. Green dress. Symbolic of life and nature. Green. Apparently it was my new favorite fucking color.
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“Because I don’t want to be jailed for murder if anyone touches a hair on your head.” A grim smile touched my lips when her
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Some photos were worth a thousand words. This photo said only one. Mine.
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That and a world without Stella in it was one that didn’t deserve to exist.
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Trying to stay away from her was like the ocean trying to stay away from the shore.
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“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.”
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“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.”
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“Stella.” He leaned forward, his face serious. “The day I wear a Hawaiian-print shirt is the day cows fucking fly.”
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“I take back what I said. Your soul is definitely suspect. It’s not normal for someone not to like dessert.” I searched for a plausible explanation. “Maybe you haven’t met the right dessert yet.” Who could hate baklava, cheesecake, and ice cream? The devil, that was who.
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I would never make it to heaven, but that didn’t matter as long as she ruled beside me in hell. Stella was made to be my queen.
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Despite what I’d said about love being a drug, Stella was my greatest high. A temptation with no escape. An obsession with no end. An addiction with no cure.
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“You never should’ve let me kiss you, Stella. Because one taste isn’t fucking enough.”
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“I notice everything about you.” There were no fluttering breaths
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“I thought you don’t believe in love,” I teased. “You’re right. That was the wrong word.” Christian touched the small of my back while his eyes met mine in the mirror. “Because love is ordinary. Mundane. And you, Stella…” The soft rasp of the zipper filled the air as he dragged it up my spine in one exquisitely, torturously slow glide. My breath left my lungs at both the sensuality of the movement and the raw intimacy of his next words. “You’re extraordinary.”
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Whether in heaven or hell, in dreams or real life, Stella was mine. And I didn’t fucking share.
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“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
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neck as his voice dropped. “And I will fucking die.”
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“For someone who claims he’s not a romantic, you say the most romantic things.” She plucked a petal from a nearby flowering tree and tucked it into the pocket of my linen shirt. “I’m onto you, Christian Harper. Beneath that hard, cynical exterior…” She pressed her hand flat against my chest. “You’re a softie at heart.”
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“It is real.” He pressed his mouth to the base of my throat. “And if it isn’t, I’ll find a way to make it real.” His kisses burned a path up my neck to my mouth. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Stella.”
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He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. My lips brushed his once. Twice. Maybe it was the sun, the dreamy lull after a month in Italy, or my lingering postorgasmic high. Whatever it was, it uncorked a hidden bottle of courage that poured onto my tongue and pushed three little words out. “I love you,” I whispered. I knew he didn’t believe in love. I knew there was a strong chance he wouldn’t say it back. But I had to tell him anyway. It was time I stopped holding myself back from doing things I wanted because of how people might react. Christian’s entire body went statue still. Even his ...more
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“The day I met you,” he said, “was the luckiest day of my life. You’ve always been the brightest part of my world, Butterfly. And you always will be.”
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The minute she’d said those words and looked at me with those beautiful green eyes, I’d known the truth. I was in love with her.
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Stella, It’s 2:30 in the morning as I write this. I haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. But I couldn’t go to sleep without telling you this… I’m trying, Butterfly. I’m trying so fucking hard. To stay away from you. To not think about you. To not love you. 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.
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“Stella, will you marry me?”
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“Daddy won!” Sofia insisted. “That’s right, little sunshine.” Alex cast a smug look in Josh’s direction before he swept her up and kissed her cheek. She giggled with delight. “Your uncle Josh is a sore loser.” Her twin brother, Niko, sat back on his haunches
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and pounded the board with tiny fists. “Uncle loser! Daddy winner!”
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Bridget and Rhys’s daughter watched their roughhousing with a mystified expression that was far too mature for her years. With her blond hair and gray eyes, little Camilla von Ascheberg was a miniature clone of her parents. She also looked surprisingly regal for a two-year-old in her blue dress and matching hair bow.
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Stella’s voice lowered. “Christian, I’m pregnant.” “You’re pregnant,” I repeated.
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“I was right all those years ago,” she murmured. “You, Christian Harper, are a softie at heart.” I laughed softly. “Only for you, Butterfly.” I kissed my wife again, and I let her warmth wrap around me while our friends’ laughter drifted over from the living room. The scene was so cheesy and cozy that the old, pre-Stella me would’ve despised it on principle. But that was the difference between then and now. Once upon a time, I hadn’t believed in love. Now, I realized that love was the last piece that’d been missing in the puzzle of my life. With it, I was finally whole.