Sinful Crown Read Online Ava Harrison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
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Now, as the twigs from the trees snap back and lash my skin, I realize my mistake.

Gideon said it would be impossible to escape, and while I haven’t found that to be accurate yet, I can definitely see how it won’t be a cakewalk either.

The trees loom all around me, and although it’s not dusk yet, it’s dark within the woods. The large branches and tree trunks block out the afternoon sun.

I shiver, but not from cold. My hands tremble at my sides as my earlier adrenaline makes way to fear.

Calm down.

Easier said than done. I sound like an elephant stampeding over these damn leaves. The crunching echoes in the silence, rattling my nerves and keeping me on edge.

I need to keep my wits about me, or I’ll get caught.

The only problem is I’ve got no clue where I am. Other than the fact that I’m surrounded by enormous trees, and I can’t see anything beyond them.

I twist and turn, trying to sidestep the prickly underbrush, but it seems to be everywhere. Every movement sends a shower of needles into my skin.

I stop for a second and take a deep breath.

It can’t be long now. This can’t go on forever.

But what if it does? What if there’s no way out of this mess?

Maybe that’s why Gideon bought this property—because it’s isolated in the wilderness.

That would be my luck.

On top of being lost, it’s hot as hell. The air is thick with humidity. Sweat clings to my brow.

There better be a road soon because I don’t want to be out here once it’s dark. I continue on my trek, but it’s harder this time. My feet keep getting stuck in the mud.

In the distance, I hear a noise.

I stop and hold my breath, trying to figure out where it’s coming from, but I can’t tell. The sound is so faint that it could be anything…or nothing.

Then there’s a break in the tree line, and a road appears.

The breath I’m holding lets out in a puff.

It might not be smart, and it’s probably a horrible idea, but I step out onto the road and look for a car.

In the grand scheme of life, how much worse can hitchhiking be from sleeping with a drug dealer that kept me prisoner in his house or the Russian mob wanting to kill me?

Not even a minute later, a truck is rolling to a stop beside me.

The window of the beat-up pickup truck rolls down, and the old man inside looks nice enough. Although, to be fair, Ted Bundy was considered handsome by many, and look at Gideon.

Being a monster didn’t diminish how handsome he is.

“Can you take me to the city?”

He narrows his eyes, his gaze looking over me. For a second, by the scowl on his face, I think he might say no and drive off. I think, at this point, I’d cry if that happened.

I’m on the verge of it already. Adrenaline has been fueling me since the bombshell in the garden earlier today. If I stop and think about what I heard…

“Please.” My voice cracks as he continues to assess me. The man seems reluctant, and to be fair, I look a mess.

There is mud caked on my hands and probably the rest of me.

“Are you in trouble?”

“Yes,” I admit. “But not because of anything I’ve done. Bad people are looking for me. I promise, as long as we get out of here now, it won’t come back on you.”

From where I’m standing, I can see how his jaw tightens. He looks at me and then up at the sky. With a large sigh, he nods. “Only because you remind me of my granddaughter, and I hope nobody would leave her to fend for herself if she were ever in a similar situation.” Reaching across the front seat, he grabs something and tosses it to me. It’s a box of wipes. “You can get in the cab. Stay down until we’re out of these parts.”

“Thanks,” I say as I climb in, and as soon as I’m in the cab, I set about cleaning myself. As I use the wipes on the caked-in dirt, I see a mark on my leg.

Why do I have a bruise here?

It’s already a shade of yellow, so it’s old.

Then I look closer and realize it’s not a bruise, but the ghost of a fingerprint.

A fingerprint mark that Gideon left.

I remember the night he did that. The way he held me down as he licked me all over.

My stomach drops, and tears blur my vision. I try as hard as I can to hold myself together, but the flimsy string is about to break.

I can’t believe I fell for him.

He’s a drug dealer.

A liar.

And now I know a murderer.

The tears I tried to keep at bay fall unbidden down my cheeks in a river of sorrow, and I let them. I cry for my brother. I cry for my parents. I cry for myself and what my life has become.


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