She whimpers. “Always.”
“In that case, yes. Anything else?”
She nods, her face flushed as her eyes lock on mine. “Yeah. Maybe you could…love me forever?”
“Deal,” I murmur, and my lips find hers.
The Venomous Gods series will continue with Drazen’s story in Monstrous Urges.
Haven’t gotten enough of Kratos and Bianca?
Get their extra scene here, or type this link into your browser: http://Bookhip.com/MNHCJHB
This isn’t an epilogue or continuation to Corrupted Heart. But this extra hot “follow-up” story is guaranteed to keep the spice going.
DEVIANT HEARTS
Thank you so much for reading Corrupted Heart! If you enjoyed the book, I’d be incredibly grateful if you could leave a review!
As mentioned, the Venomous Gods series continues with Drazen’s story in Monstrous Urges. You can also get a glimpse of some of the other characters mentioned in this book (the Drakos and Kildare families) in the Dark Hearts series, starting with Deviant Hearts, a dark enemies-to-lovers, forced marriage mafia romance. There’s even a sneak peek of that book on the following pages for you.
You can find complete book lists and suggested reading orders on my website.
Scroll on for a sneak peek of Deviant Hearts.
Chapter 1
Neve
Fuck. Me.
He’s doing it.
Again.
I tell myself not to look. I tell myself to keep my eyes on the book and the study notes in front of me, because NYU seriously does not care what my last name is, and they’ll have no issue failing my sorry ass from my government and public policy master’s program if I don’t focus.
I tell myself it’s high time I bought some fucking curtains, so I can avoid this…distraction…since it’s clearly shaping up to be a frequent thing.
But the problem with telling yourself not to do something that deep down you really want to?
The “deep down” part always wins. Always.
Or, at least it does with me. Which might say more about me and my own self-control…or lack thereof.
No. It’s definitely easier to go ahead and blame my new neighbor across the street. Let’s go with that.
I mean, he’s the one that keeps walking around naked in a penthouse made out of fucking glass.
Mark Twain once said, “There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.” But, smart as he was, it’s clear Mr. Twain never had the neighbor I do. If he had, I’m pretty sure he’d have taken a whole lot of the whimsical “charm” out of that statement.
And sure enough, despite my best—or, okay, let’s be real, mediocre—efforts, soon enough, my gaze shifts from the notes in front of me to the man across the steel canyon from me.
Sweet Jesus.
He’s a freaking god. Tall and lean, and as muscled as a superhero. Shoulders and arms built to take away your ability to speak. Chiseled abs and those grooved hip-muscle things that I don’t even know what they’re called but they seem to be evolution’s way of making even smart women go fucking stupid.
Tattoos for days. Deeply tanned, Mediterranean skin, with a shadow on his razor-sharp jaw, and dark, perfectly tousled hair.
It’s like living next to a goddamn Avenger who models for Armani while he’s not busy saving the world from Thanos. No wonder he seems to have a problem with wearing clothes.
Heat floods my cheeks as I glance across the chasm between us. The morning light streams right through his penthouse, which is another annoyance.
Two months ago, my place was a dream apartment. A modern, light-filled loft at the top of a thirty-eight-story building. So high up that I didn’t even have neighbors who could see into this place.
Is it more than a little ostentatious? Well…yeah. It’s a thousand square feet of modern glass and steel on the West Side overlooking the Hudson. Was it absurdly expensive? Also, yeah. But there’s gotta be some perks that come with being a Kildare to offset the downsides.
Issues making friends my entire life because my family is the Irish Mafia? Check. Problems having any sort of romantic relationships, for the same reason? Check and double check.
Aimless, drifting, utterly unsure of what I want to do with my life, because what exactly do mafia princesses do all day?
Check and fucking mate.
For the last year, I’ve been throwing myself into this government and policy master’s program at NYU. But after that? Who knows. For now, I’m at least finally living on my own.
