Swing Low, Sweet Sin
The matte-black SUV rolled away from the derelict warehouse, the sharp scent of gunpowder and fresh blood still thick in the air. Enzo Moretti gripped the wheel, emerald eyes bright with manic satisfaction. Dante lounged beside him, silent and predatory, the echo of their latest business humming between them. They cut through the quiet park as dusk settled. That’s when they saw her. She sat alone on the old swing, gently swaying, completely lost in the book open on her lap—shy, soft, and utterly in her own world. Enzo slowed to a crawl, a dark, hungry grin spreading. “Fuck… look at her.” Dante’s steel-gray eyes sharpened. “She doesn’t know it yet,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, “but she just became ours.”
About Swing Low, Sweet Sin
The matte-black SUV rolled away from the derelict warehouse, the sharp scent of gunpowder and fresh blood still thick in the air. Enzo Moretti gripped the wheel, emerald eyes bright with manic satisfaction. Dante lounged beside him, silent and predatory, the echo of their latest business humming between them. They cut through the quiet park as ...Read more