He was supposed to protect me. Instead, he made me fear the dark.
He was supposed to love me. In the end, his love was
sickening, cruel and filled with malice.

Five years ago, the only bright lights in my world were extinguished.
One decision. One text. One sentence and my fragile life shattered.

I never expected the depravity and lies that greets me when
I return to Montecito, leaving me with one goal…
To flee and never look back.

Everything changes when three gorgeous guys crash into my life.
They’re determined to mark me as theirs, and make me
question everything I hold true.

But when the ghosts of my past and future collide, who will be left standing?
Me… or the monster who coveted me for all of the wrong reasons,
turning me into what I am today…



“You see, sis, all I need is one little taste of that sweet pussy, and I will erase that video of you whoring yourself out. Maddox will be none the wiser.” 

I cringe, my lip curling up in loathing. But all he does is grin at me like the Cheshire Cat, all teeth, conniving with zero remorse. Like he knows how well and truly fucked I am in this situation, and now he gets to play with his favorite prey.

Quickly, I consider my options here. Well, I only see two: I give into Presley, and he erases the video, or I say fuck you, and he sends Maddox the video. Crestfallen with those poor choices, I choose the less abhorrent one. The one that won’t have me signing my soul away to the devil. 

Leaning forward, my lips come within a hair’s breadth of Presley’s. His pupils blow wide and his body vibrates with excitement, fingers tightening farther around my waist. He thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s going to get his prize. Little does he know: I am not prey; I am the predator now. 

“Fuck. You,” I whisper. I swing my knee forward and slam it into his balls. Between Presley and Jameson, I’ve perfected the art of nailing a guy in the junk, causing maximum pain. 

“Fuck,” he coughs out, wheezing and doubled over, pain marring his expression as he cups his shriveled-up balls. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Room,” I grit out through clenched teeth, adrenaline pumping through me at a punishing rate. 

Rising, Presley pins me with a murderous glare. “You’ll regret this, that I can promise you, sis.” Spittle flies from his snarling threat and lands on my cheek before he turns and limps out of my room. 

My bravado vanishes as I watch him storm out the bedroom door, its frame rattling from the force he uses to slam it shut behind him. I’m surprised the door doesn’t split in two, ripping off the hinges. 

The room descends into an ominous silence, beckoning me into the darkest reaches of my mind and whispering sweet promises of punishment for my wanton sins. The realization of what I’ve done and what’s inevitably to come wraps around me like a python encircling its latest meal.


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