Heartless Heathens: A Why Choose Gothic Romance by Santana Knox

Author:Santana Knox [Knox, Santana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Baneful Ink Publishing
Published: 2022-12-25T16:00:00+00:00

I couldn’t get out of my own head. Every second of the day that I spent alone, I spent torturing myself, trying to find a reason for why my life had been this way. It didn’t hurt so bad when I was ignorant to it, when I didn’t know any better. But now that I had a taste of freedom, of what life was really like, all I could think about was why it happened this way for me. I loomed outside his bedroom door like a nervous shadow, waiting for an invite.

“What do you want, Romina?” he asked dryly as I walked inside.

“I need to talk to Frollo, Carmine.” I used the name I’d found written on most of his important documents.

“What did you fucking call me?” He hissed out, ignoring the first portion of my request while he closed in on me and forced me to back into the wall.

Sonny had this way about him and I always found myself cornered like an animal, always trapped with nowhere to go but to gnaw through the beast standing in my way. There was something about him that made me want to raise my flags and go to battle, something inside me itched to fight when he came for me.

“That’s your real name, isn’t it?” I breathed out anxiously, his face was touching mine but his expression was too angry for me to feel anything but terrified, letting me know I might have crossed a line.

And not in a good way this time.

“Which one of those fucking assholes told you my name?” His forearm pressed against my throat, pushing me against the wall and cutting off my oxygen.

“Neither of them. I looked through your things and saw it.”

He raked his fingers through his hair like he was beyond his limit and his jaw ticked from the obvious rage that was running through his body.

“You’re not supposed to do that kind of shit.” He shook his head and I deflated, hiding my gaze from him once I noticed the gravity of his disappointment.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said in a quiet voice and he exhaled heavily, removing his forearm from my neck.

“You didn’t fucking know.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes but his nostrils were still flared from his anger.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.

“Just don’t call me that, do you hear me?” He wrapped his fingers around my throat, still keeping me pinned to the wall and waiting for my understanding.

“Yes. Sir,” I wheezed out with the same tone I took with Father Frollo when he refused to see anything but his way.

Sonny was nothing like Frollo, but in moments like this, where he refused to tell me anything real and it was expected of me to blindly comply, I couldn’t help but feel the bitter sting of their similarities, even if they were small. He let out a quiet laugh under his breath before removing his arm from my neck.

“Look at that, I think I might like that nickname.” He grabbed my hand and wrapped it over his erection, thick and engorged, under the fabric of his pants.

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