Eden Amato was the treasured baby of her family. She knew what her life was like, but her family allowed a level of ignorance towards it. Until her 18th birthday, when she was suddenly married to Jackson Walsh, the soon-to-be leader of the Walsh Clan. As the wedding date approaches, Eden realizes things aren't as simple as they seem. She soon finds herself in over her head, marrying all three of the Walsh brothers. Betrayal runs deep, making for some interesting developments. Will she be able to love all three? Or will lust rule the relationship, leaving no room for love? ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ I pulled all my hair to one side to adjust my necklace, when I felt hands on my shoulders. I jumped and turned, startled to see Callum standing behind me. "What're you doing?" I say, trying to shrug him off. But my shock turns to borderline terror when he plants a kiss at the base of my neck. I freeze, not knowing what's happening. My fiance is sitting across from me and his brother is kissing me. And no one in my family is here. If they find out, they'll either kill him or me. "You smell so sweet, Eden." His hand grasps my jaw, tilting my head to the side for better access. I stop moving, not out of fear, but something else. This doesn't feel bad. "Did you like that, Eden? Because there will be a lot more of that." I turn to look at Jackson, who is smirking slightly. "I'm not the only one you're marrying, Eden. You'll be marrying all 3 of us." I stop breathing all together.

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN