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Our King's Deadly Sin

Anastasia Brown. A fierce yet careless young lady. All alone in a world of cruelty. Surrounded by enemies with no one to trust. Ethan Dmitri Petrov. An introverted demon billionaire with a dark past and a wounded soul. Although looking perfect on the outside, it was impossible to weigh the kind of pain Ethan held inside him. Soothed by an imaginary female he began to write letters to 200 years ago, he was able to survive through the world of war and the numerous innocent blood he had shed. Somehow, 200 years later the letters get to Anastasia who seem to not give a care in the world but things start to change the moment Ana becomes moved by the romance and pain passed through words and starts to write back to a man she is not aware of. With another war lurking around, unexpected people plotting deceit and Ethans unacceptable sin of the time he was known as Dmitri, is there a silver lining for them, or is there life meant to be hell on earth? Will Ana be his rescue or would she be his arrest? Excerpt Truthfully he responds. "Money flows with me. Together, we are the root of all evil. You will not do well with a man like me." Her eyes shone when she heard money and her brain began to process 1000 things money would do to her. Leaning forward, she places her left hand on his and softly says. "Then we should get married. You see, marrying the root of all evil has been my lifetime goal." Ethan was left speechless.

introvertedauthor · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
207 Chs

I want us to be friends again

He knew Ana was watching how he buttoned his shirt and he intentionally took his time doing it. When he was done he flashed her a smile one she didnt return.

"I drank from the King and Rebecca." He tells her. Anas eyes went wide but before she could say anything, he quickly adds. "And i stopped Marceys heart about three times because she was starting to talk too much and annoy me."

"What the..." she couldn't even complete her sentence before he rushed to her front. "What are you doing?"

"You really don't like me?" He questions, some sort of urgency in his tome. "I like how you smell like me."