Eloise
  • WpView
    Reads 566
  • WpVote
    Votes 67
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
WpMetadataReadOngoing23m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Mar 19, 2018
WpInfo
Fiction
Romance
El sueño de Eloise es bailar en el caño pero su madre se lo prohíbe terminantemente por ser un baile para 'prostitutas' o 'chicas regaladas' según lo cataloga ella. Un día, su hermano mayor Dylan, aparece en su casa luego de años y por su falta de trabajo y de dinero se queda a vivir con ambas. Eloise siente repulsión hacía Dylan y todo lo que haga le molesta. Ambos hermanos deben aliarse ya que Dylan descubre el gran secreto de Eloise. Mentiras. Secretos. Mafia. Matanza. Y un sueño que podría costarles la vida a su familia y.. hasta a ella misma. Historia hecha en conjunto con Ceci Stark19
All Rights Reserved
#37
sueños
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • His Mafia Queen
  • 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 | ✔︎
  • Serendipity
  • Special Service || Kth✓
  • 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 ||✔️
  • Beauty And The Mobster
  • ʀᴀᴠᴇɴ
  • Jokers

"Have I...?" He whispered again, fragile in a way that made my stomach twist, made my pulse spike in my throat. "Ever fucking hit you?!" His voice rose, furious and raw, shaking the walls around us-and vibrating through me, like it could set me on fire from the inside out. I averted my eyes, shaking my head. No. "Then why do you always cover away in fear when I get too close? Why do you expect me to hurt you when I've never laid my hands on you?" His teeth were clenched, jaw tight, yet there was something more in his voice than anger-something human, something unbearably close, like it was threading into my blood, my skin, my pulse. He was right. And I knew it. I wasn't afraid of him. Not really. Hell, I deserved punishment-for the blood on my hands, for the lives I'd shattered, for the guilt that clung to me like a second skin. Dany. The other half of me haunted me, her little face, her little voice, the promise of vengeance twisting through my veins. My vendetta came first. It had to. Every step, every decision, every second-I couldn't let him know who I truly was. Not yet. If he did I would never be free. And sooner or later, I had to go.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines