Syndicate of Sins (Toxic Paradise, #2)

by Marie Maravilla

Nothing itched quite like dried blood. Well, dried cum was a bitch too.

“Bella,” Enzo replied, drawing out the term of affection. His Italian accent was smooth and comforting in my ear.

No one was fucking saving me but me.

Another scar to add to the list.

I’d rather be the villain. A walking nightmare for those who got in my way.

So Cain was born, spilling the blood of others onto the earth.

Turned out, fucked-up-childhood trauma manifested in interesting ways. Mine created a coldhearted bastard who only cared for my found brothers.

“No, I didn’t learn anything from barn animals. But my friends on the corner taught me how to deep-throat a champagne bottle. That’s usually my preferred method of drinking bubbly,”

“Kenji doesn’t give a shit how they look. He cares about who the fuck thought they could touch you like that. So…who the fuck did this to you?”

That was so much better than a dick pic. Men should only send vocal jerkoff videos like that. Indecision racked my brain. What the hell did you say back to that? Thanks for the masturbation material. Your dick looked great.