Stolen Series by Julia Sykes

Stolen Series by Julia Sykes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Wed, 25 Oct 2017 13:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Stolen Series by Julia Sykes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Stolen Innocence Read Online Julia Sykes (Stolen #0.5) http://www.wownovels.com/stolen-innocence-read-online-julia-sykes Wed, 25 Oct 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/stolen-innocence-read-online-julia-sykes Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Julia Sykes Series: Stolen Series by Julia Sykes
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Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Stolen Innocence (Stolen #0.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Julia Sykes
Language:	English
Book Information:
I was sold like property on the day of my father’s funeral. I’d thought his death would set me free, but I’d never truly understood what it meant to have all my freedoms stripped away. Until that day, I’d been living in a child’s fantasy. Then, my brother sells me, and I don’t have the luxury of being a child anymore. I’m taken to Vicente Rodríguez’s estate, to be kept as his plaything. When I’m old enough, he’ll claim my innocence. My only reprieve from my hellish reality is in the strained companionship I share with his son, Adrián. Sometimes, I think he hates me. He can be cold and cruel, his burning green eyes glowering when he looks at me. But the longer I’m trapped in his home, the more heated those looks become, and not just with hatred. They make something burn within me, too. My innocence is no longer mine to give, but Adrián might be the first one to claim it for himself. ***Note: Stolen Innocence is the prequel to Stealing Beauty.
Books in Series:	Stolen Series by Julia Sykes
Books by Author:	Julia Sykes Books

Prologue

Valentina

I was sold like property on the day of my father’s funeral. I’d thought his death would set me free, but I’d never really understood what it meant to have all my freedoms stripped away. Until that day, I’d been living in a child’s fantasy.

At the funeral, my eyes were dry. I didn’t shed any tears over Antonio Moreno because I had none to offer him. I did my best to arrange my features into something sorrowful, but if anything, I felt relief. I’d never tremble in his shadow again.

He certainly didn’t loom large now. Not laying out in his coffin, his eyes closed but his granite jaw as hard and forbidding as ever. Despite the harsh set of his face in death, I realized for the first time that my father was actually a short man. Even though he’d been half a foot taller than me, I was only fourteen and still growing.

It was strange, looking at his coffin and realizing that he’d never been nearly as big as I’d thought. It was almost funny.

I pressed my lips together to keep them from curving up in amusement. I shouldn’t be smiling. Even if I held no love for my distant, intimidating father, my grandmother would switch me for mocking the dead. She’d do it out of love, but she’d switch me all the same. Abuela rarely disciplined me, but she was raising me to be a good, honest girl, and I wouldn’t let her down. Especially not in front of all the strange, scary men who were attending my father’s funeral.

Andrés’ hand covered mine in a silent show of support. I glanced over at my brother where he sat in the church pew beside me. He might be my half-brother by technical terms, but he was the person I was closest to in the world. We shared a father, and we shared the same opinion of him: that he was a callous, ruthless man.

When Andrés’ dark chocolate eyes met mine, I noticed the relief that shone from them. I wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t miss our father. I squeezed my brother’s hand and allowed a small smile to play around my mouth. Others would see the gesture as a sister comforting her older sibling, but in reality, we were sharing a private moment of joy. We were free.

I swallowed a yelp when pain flared on my left thigh. I knew better than to cry when Cristian hurt me. I tore my eyes from Andrés, but I didn’t dare look at Cristian, my other half-brother and my own personal demon. He was nothing like Andrés.

Then again, as the oldest son and heir to my father’s cocaine empire, Cristian had been subject to his full, cruel attention for his entire life.

I wished Abuela were sitting beside me instead of Cristian, but he hadn’t even allowed her in the same pew. Since she wasn’t father’s blood relative, she wasn’t supposed to sit at the front of the church.

I just prayed that Cristian would leave us all alone at our little house on the corner of our father’s estate once we returned home.

No. Not our father’s estate. It was Cristian’s now. He might only be twenty, but father had left him everything. The same hour Antonio had died from his heart attack, Cristian had begun consolidating his power and securing his position. He was young, so there would be challenges to his control, probably by many of the dangerous men who filled this church, pretending to mourn.

The fake mourners were processing down the aisle, taking their turn to say a prayer—or a silent curse—over Antonio’s body. I watched them instead of peeking over at Cristian. It was safer that way.

Or so I thought, until an older man in a tailored black suit turned away from the coffin, and his dark eyes caught mine. His cheekbones were defined, his cheeks hollow. His narrow jaw tapered to a sharp point, which was emphasized by his thin black beard. I recognized Vicente Rodríguez from my father’s lavish parties. I’d become adept at memorizing important names and faces at a young age, and Vicente was one of Antonio’s most powerful friends.

But the line between friend and enemy was thin in our world, and the way Vicente’s lip curled at Cristian made unease stir in my gut. I might not like my half-brother, but if he was killed, I wouldn’t have a home on the family estate anymore. I’d be homeless, penniless. Cristian’s success meant stability for Andrés and me, so even though I didn’t like him, I was on big brother’s side.

Vicente’s eyes left Cristian, and his gaze fell on me. He took a few lingering seconds to study my face. Then, his eyes lowered, and he wasn’t studying my face. I shifted against the wooden pew, becoming very aware of the fact that my breasts had grown over the months since I’d last seen him. My black dress was modest, but the way he looked at my body wasn’t.

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Stealing Beauty Read Online Julia Sykes (Stolen #1) http://www.wownovels.com/stealing-beauty-1-read-online-julia-sykes Wed, 25 Oct 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/stealing-beauty-1-read-online-julia-sykes Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Julia Sykes Series: Stolen Series by Julia Sykes
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Stealing Beauty (Stolen #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Julia Sykes
Language:	English
Book Information:
A Standalone Dark Romance As the most notorious, sadistic drug lord on the west coast, I thrive on power and control. Valentina loathes me as much as I despise her. That doesn't stop me from kidnapping her, stealing her away for myself. Over the years that have separated us, hatred has festered in my heart. The girl I once loved is all woman now, and she thinks she belongs to someone else. Her defiance tempts and torments me, and I'll never tire of devising devious punishments to keep her in line. She can't escape my cruel touch and harsh discipline. No one will take her from me. I'll kill anyone who tries. Valentina was always meant to be mine. Nothing will stop me from possessing her, body and soul.
Books in Series:	Stolen Series by Julia Sykes
Books by Author:	Julia Sykes Books

Chapter 1

Valentina

Pale green eyes sliced into my chest, their cutting gaze keener than I remembered. They practically glowed as he glowered at me from across the church: a panther deciding whether his prey was worth bothering with the hunt. His full lips curled in a sneer, those beautiful, terrifying eyes scanning my body.

Whatever he saw in me, he decided I wasn’t worth his time. He blinked and looked away, his attention turning back to the stunning blonde draped on his arm.

I sucked in a gasp, remembering how to breathe. My fingers trembled at my sides as a hit of adrenaline surged through my system.

I’d known Adrián would be here. I’d told myself I was ready to face him. I’d told myself that I’d be able to mask my ire and put on the pretty, pleasant smile that was expected of me.

But I hadn’t been prepared for the hatred in his burning stare. Ten long years had passed since I’d last looked into those hypnotic green eyes. Once, they’d shined with devotion when he looked at me.

Now, it seemed he loathed me as much as I despised him.

I collected my wits, clenching my fists at my sides to still my shaking fingers. My perfectly manicured nails bit into my palms, but I welcomed the little flare of pain. It helped ground me. Pain reminded me of my role, my duties.

I’d receive a lot more of it if I didn’t play my part perfectly: devoted wife to Hugo Sánchez, the second most powerful man in Bogotá.

The most powerful man, Vicente Rodríguez, was the reason I was here, participating in this farce.

A visible shiver raced through the young woman—barely more than a girl—who stood at the altar. Camila Gómez had the misfortune of catching Vicente’s eye a year ago. The eighteen-year-old had gotten pregnant, giving him a son. He’d decided to force her into this marriage to ensure the boy’s legitimacy. A secondary heir to his cocaine empire, in case something were to happen to Adrián.

Adrián Rodríguez. I could hardly believe the boy I’d loved all those years ago had turned into the hard, frightening man who’d taken his place in the church pew behind me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his cruel glare on my back. It made my skin pebble with a prey’s awareness, my body instinctively sensing the threat.

For the last decade, he’d been in America, consolidating the power of his father’s cartel in California. I’d never expected to see him again, but Vicente’s wedding to poor Camila had brought the prodigal son home to Colombia.

The girl’s petite frame appeared smaller than ever as she shrank in Vicente’s shadow. He’d waited long enough for her slender body to return to its youthful perfection after she’d given birth—no doubt, she was kept on a careful regimen to ensure her beauty for this day.

I was far too familiar with the practice: the restricted diet and proscribed exercise to keep my natural curves just the right size to please my husband. Mercifully, Hugo stood at Vicente’s side rather than mine. As Vicente’s lapdog, Hugo was a natural choice to play the part of best man at this sham wedding.

My husband’s beady black eyes fixed on me, and his thin lips curved into a malicious smile. An involuntary shudder wracked my body. He’d looked at me with the exact same expression ten years ago, when I’d been the one in the pretty white dress, forced to the altar against my will. I was only sixteen at the time, but Hugo hadn’t minded being wedded to a child. He’d waited too long for his turn with me to care.

And as my guardian, Vicente had given me away to his best friend, gifting me to him in exchange for his years of loyalty.

I could hardly bear to look at either of the disgusting, lecherous men. Somehow, I lifted my chin and straightened my spine. I couldn’t allow anyone in the church to sense that my fear-drenched memories of my wedding night were playing through my mind.

Hugo delighted in my fear, but he also expected me to maintain the façade of perfect, loving wife when we were in public. He might be short and stocky, but his rounded belly didn’t diminish his strength. His thinning black hair and ruddy cheeks were showing the signs of his age, but the years hadn’t caused him to grow frail. He was as brutal as he’d been on the day I’d met him, when I was fourteen years old.

I plastered on a beatific smile, meeting my husband’s gaze. To any casual observer, I’d appear to be staring at him with love and devotion, remembering the false joy of our own wedding day.

Camila’s palpable terror made the dark memories I kept locked at the back of my mind push to the forefront. I shoved them away before I gagged. A metallic tang coated my tongue, and I realized I’d bitten the inside of my cheek.

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Read Online Books/Novels:

Stolen Innocence (Stolen #0.5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Julia Sykes

English

Julia Sykes Books