[𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒] [𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍]
Gabriel Sinclair was no saint, and he made no pretenses about it.
Ruthless, cunning, and unhinged -those words only begin to scratch the surface of his true nature.
Like a merciless hurricane, h...
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓
"We just want the world to love the little monsters we are."
┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛
Why the hell was I here?
The answer was somewhere inside that godforsaken mansion, undoubtedly savoring every moment of debauchery.
I shouldn't have cared, yet some twisted sense of duty dragged me out of bed and led me here.
"Now that we're here, I can confidently say it's a terrible idea." Mason commented, his frown palpable even without me facing him.
No kidding.
Entering this property was willingly throwing oneself into the lion's den.
"You can stay in the car." I offered, my gaze fixed straight ahead, hands tightly gripping the wheel.
"And risk you going off the rails?" His deadpan laugh shattered the heavy strain inside the vehicle. "No way."
Part of me wrestled with the urge to step through those gates and set off a chain of events I would undoubtedly regret.
"Maybe it's just a misunderstanding." he tried to convince me, and I had to bite my tongue to refrain from reacting impulsively.
Mason's pragmatic nature had always been a quality I admired in him, ever since our three years as roommates and teammates. However, tonight, his usual optimism was out of sync with the situation.
"The photo you sent me clearly shows my brother cozying up to the enemy. There's no room for misunderstanding."
My grip tightened on the steering wheel as the memory of the photo flashed in my mind once more. Yet, it was the caption that delivered the real gut punch: "Looks like Wilder Junior is done playing second fiddle."
The implication was glaring. The people behind this publication weren't interested in my brother. They were seeking my attention, and they got it, hook, line, and sinker.
"Sam picked the worst possible place, didn't he?" Mason's sigh, accompanied by a shake of his head, mirrored perfectly my frustration.
Fortunately for Samuel, he wasn't in front of me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stopped at only shaking some sense into him. His comings and goings usually didn't warrant much of my attention. However, choosing to attend a university party, especially one organized by our sworn enemy, was crossing the bloody line.
Describing the relationship between the Raven's hockey team and our own, the ThunderHawks, as enemies didn't even cover half of it. This rivalry extended far beyond the realm of the rink. It permeated every aspect of our lives, fueled by a history dating back to our early college years.
