Kiera_Obsidian07

"My life was red... until him" - Sloane Kingston

They took too much from me and left me for dead. They should have made sure I stayed that way.

I have trained too long and too hard to stop now. But I never saw him coming. And now, I can't let him go.

Christian Allister is the star that my dark, depraved soul craves. He keeps me from succumbing to the darkness.

Revenge is best served cold, and I am here to collect the debts owed to me.

The whole world is searching for a 'monster' on a killing spree, not a girl hopelessly falling for a man.

They will never see me coming until my nails are plunged into the hearts of every name on my list.

But will Christian ever believe me, the girl thought dead by the world, when he finds out my secret?

Author: Hello everyone! Let's dive deeper in the story and find out what will happen in this story of Sloane and Christian when Sloane will find out that Christian is former FBI agent and has to return to solve the murder cases. Murders attempted my her!

Trigger Warnings: This book contains violent scenes, mentions of sexual harassment, murders. Read on your own risk.

This book also contains mature scenes. Only 18+  allowed. I will mention the chapter names with [M].

Dedication:- This is for the ones who lost their voice. This is for the ones who wish they could be Sloane Kingston. This is for the ones who fight every single day to forget. You’re not alone.

If you like what I have written, please collect my story!
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Humbly,

~Kiera

Sin: Return of Sloane Kingston

<p>I don't speak. In fact, I should say I can't speak. Dr. Greene used to sit across from me, his eyes filled with a mixture of patience and frustration as he tried to coax words from my silent lips. He would ask gentle questions, his voice a steady stream of calm and reassurance, but I could never respond. It's not that I don't want to; it's that I physically can't. The words are trapped, stuck in my throat like a ball of thorns, and every time I try to force them out, they scratch and tear at me until I give up. The memory of speaking, of recounting what happened, sends me spiraling into panic. Once, I nearly had a full-blown panic attack right there in his office, gasping for air, my vision narrowing to a pinpoint of light.</p>

Diary Entry IV