Sinful Ties: My Ex Husband, My Stepbrother

I married Damien Pierce for love.

I divorced him for my sanity.

He was a billionaire heir with ice in his veins and obsession in his heart. I was the waitress who accidentally spilled coffee on his suit and somehow ended up in his penthouse, in his bed, in his world. For two years, I was his wife-and his prisoner.

He didn't hit me. He didn't have to.

He simply watched. Every move I made. Every friend I spoke to. Every breath I took outside his permission was met with silence so cold it burned. When I finally found the courage to leave, I left everything behind. The money. The name. Even my dignity.

I told myself I'd rather be alone forever than belong to Damien Pierce for one more day.

That was three years ago.

Now, I'm standing in my mother's living room, champagne in hand, smiling at her new fiancé-a kind, gentle widower who looks at her like she hung the moon.

Then the front door opens.

And Damien walks in.

Because the kind, gentle widower? Is his father.

My ex-husband is about to become my stepbrother.

The first words out of his mouth, in front of our beaming parents, are not hello.

They are: "Did you really think divorce papers would make me stop owning you, Ayra?"

Now we share holidays. We share family dinners. We share a hallway in our parents' mansion.

And Damien Pierce has made one thing very clear:

He doesn't want to be my ex-husband.

He doesn't want to be my stepbrother.

He wants to be my sin.