wanted by the devil's incarnate[BL]: love After A kill.

Dark romance x mature content x slow burn. ****Blurb***** "Look, I have an Escalade, by the way." Fedora's lips folded. He had no idea what to do with that information, but he figured if he just indulged the man's ego, it would end faster. Faster, my foot. Miguel swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a low, predatory whisper as he leaned in. "All my offers, and any other thing you can wish for... I will get it done." He beat his chest softly, his eyes darkening. "If you can just follow me outside. To the back of my comfy Escalade. It's been a long time since I had a bitch served... in my car." He finished the sentence and swiped his tongue across his lips, biting them with a raw, sexual hunger. He waited for the final reply, already getting high on the thought of cupping that tiny waist with one hand and burying himself in that Chanel-scented skin until the boy pleaded his name in parables. Fedora went stoic. He was completely frozen, the world stopping as the shock and bewilderment hit him like a physical blow. He scoffed in disbelief, his jaw practically hitting the floor. 'Back of the Escalade. Bitches served in a car'. "Me! Fedora!! Bitch!!! Served in the back of a car!!! Unto delicacy!!!! Gosh!!!!!" Fedora muttered, the words replaying in his head like a record skip. A dry, hysterical laugh escaped his lips. Oh, this was the height of it. He wasn't going to stand there and let another man disrespect him. Never. Miguel took another step closer, his head hovering over Fedora's, dominant and sure. The boy hadn't said a word; he was definitely giving in, Miguel thought. He leaned in further, waiting for the "yes" but what came next?! It was, by far, the least expected thing any living human being would have the guts to do to him. Behold, it was no other than a hot, non-withheld, redirective, and resounding SLAP!!!! †††††††† **************** Fedora loved him. Miguel loved him too obsessively. Possessively. To the point where devotion blurred into control. Miguel wanted to be involved in everything that touched Fedora’s life, and he proved, time and again, that he would go against his own will, spill blood, even die if it meant keeping Fedora spoiled, protected, and tethered to him. On the surface, Miguel was everything anyone could dream of. Until Fedora fell so deeply in love that he hit rock bottom and realised the darkness there was too suffocating for both his aesthetic and his sanity. He thought he knew Miguel. He was catastrophically wrong. Fedora had been blind to the beast he let into his heart. The truth comes apart slowly, cruelly: Miguel is the reason Fedora has no family. The reason is that there is no life for him beyond Miguel’s shadow. And worst of all, Fedora had chosen him anyway, his memories erased not by force, but by misplaced devotion. “Pick a gun and empty it into his brain.” The solution sounds simple. It isn’t. Fedora doesn’t know what’s real anymore. He can’t tell if what he shared with Miguel, the man he once humiliated in a bar, the man who later became his lover, was genuine love or a carefully staged performance fueled by manipulation, guilt, and obsession. The cruel irony? Miguel is wrapped around Fedora’s fingers, tight as a rosary around a nun’s hand. And yet, Fedora is still the one trapped. Now he must decide. Will he avenge his family? Will love survive the truth? And if Miguel dies, will it be swift… or slow enough to satisfy the damage left behind? This isn’t a romance. It’s a beautifully brutal descent into love, control, and consequence. Enter at your own risk. ********* . warning!!! Some statements, scenes, and incidents in this book may not sit well with religious readers. [Everything is fictional and not intended to harm or coerce your mind in any way]