BOOK 2 OF THE "PROCLIVITY" SERIES
𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘉𝘌 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘚 𝘈 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘌
𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪
The daughter of the biggest kingpin of Spain; finds her heart sailing right into the hands of her family's rival, making...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I stared at the pen, rolling in between my fingers, a thought clouding my head as I tried to grasp around it.
HernineAcetta.
Silver eyes, signature red lips, milky white skin, moles on her nose and lip, tattoos littered on her arms and legs, her heels tall and proud and her aura even prouder.
She's different than what described.
She's humble, careless, a maniac sure... But one for her family and a possessive one for her cartel.
I wanted to ask Marco about if Acettas did really kill Alejandro because something wasn't adding up here.
The confession last night wasn't adding up.
Why would she tell me that?
I threw my head back, my head throbbing.
"I know, I trust you."
My eyes sprang open, my body leaning forward on the table, my knee restless as it bounced as I sat in my office chair.
Nothing added up.
Her feelings didn't add up.
My feelings didn't add up.
I wasn't supposed to feel this way.
I wasn't supposed to hug her.
I wasn't supposed to kiss her.
Again and again that was.
It was supposed to be just once.
I never planned on getting addicted.
It was like my mind just shutdown whenever she started speaking or giving me one of those smiles she always had. Everything blurred out and the next thing I know, I'd be kissing her and would then feel guilty when she'd respond back.
I knew I was in deep trouble when my urge to shoot her, dissipated, the dissipation transpiring within me. Bringing a heavy feeling.
That urge was overtaken by a strong feeling of having her close to me. Having her in my arms.
I killed a man for her.
Upon that thought, my head fell in my hand, nothing making sense.
When Hernine was busy killing and choking the girl in the drug raid on the floor last week, a man was about to shoot her but I shot him first, my arm having a mind of it's own. Picking up the gun, shooting someone who wanted to cause her harm.
A fire erupts within me when I think of her in any harm.
I felt different.
What is happening? Nothing. Makes. Sense.
What will happen once she finds out about this?
Too many questions, too little answers.
My head darted up and all thoughts slowly disintegrated when she walked in my office.
