Sinscared Series #1
A forbidden love.
A betrayal lurking in the shadows.
And a world built on blood, deception, and vengeance.
In the ruthless world of the Italian mafia, loyalty is power, betrayal is death, and love... is a dangerous game.
Serafi...
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I stumbled upon Serafina at the bar, barely able to recognize the woman who was usually so composed and in control.
Her head lolled to the side, her fingers clutching a glass of whiskey like a lifeline. Her emerald eyes, usually sharp and discerning, were now unfocused, clouded by alcohol.
"Lucien..." she murmured as I approached. Her voice was thick, slurred. "You're... here."
I wasn't used to seeing her so vulnerable, so broken.
I don't know what the fuck happened there, but I hope it is just some miscommunication.
Eleanor is fond of Serafina, she won't say or do anything to hurt her.
But now that I look at her, I think something has happened.
She has never been like this, this vulnerable and... and broken.
I made sure of that.
"Perle," I said gently, placing a hand on her arm. "I think you've had enough."
She turned to me, her eyes glassy and unfocused. "Lucien... you don't get to tell me what to do."
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," I replied, keeping my voice calm. "I'm just worried about you."
"Worried?" she scoffed, swaying slightly. "Since when do you worry about me?"
Fuck, Serafina.
The hurt in her voice, the way she said it—it was like she didn't believe I cared about her anymore.
"Since always," I said, my heart aching at the pain in her voice. "Let's get you home, okay?"
"Why do you care, Lucien?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "You have Eleanor. You don't need me."
"That's not true," I said, looking into her eyes. "I do need you, Serafina. You're my wife."
The second the word "wife" left my mouth, she laughed.
It was a hollow, bitter sound, one that sent chills down my spine.
"A wife," she mocked. "Is that what I am to you, Lucien? Or am I just... just something convenient?"
The pit in my stomach twisted further. "No, Serafina. You're not just something convenient. You've always been more than that."
She leaned forward, her eyes suddenly sharpening as she locked them onto mine.
"Then why... why does it feel like I've been nothing but a protocol? Why do I feel like you stopped caring the second Eleanor came into your life?"
"Eleanor has nothing to do with this," I shot back, my tone firmer than I intended. "This is about us."
"Us?" she slurred, lifting her glass again, though her grip faltered. "What 'us,' Lucien? You've been gone for so long... It's like you're not even here."
