All Chapters of SINFUL SENSATIONS : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

XAVER LIKED HIS new normal. For the past two weeks, he's been living a life of certified bliss. He got to wake up beside the love of his life every morning and go to sleep with her at night.Recently, Sre's nightmares have taken a more persistent and dark turn and it bothered Xaver deeply, even though he tried not to let it show. Could this be a warning for an impending doom? Or could this be just a subconcious reflection of her daily worry thoughts?Currently, he was having the cameras in her house removed. And whilst that was being done, he insisted she stayed with him. He wasn't comfortable with her staying where he couldn't see her everyday and know she's safe. That psychopath still prowled the streets and Xaver refused to take any chances.Sreya had taken a temporary leave of absence from work to remain home for some time. And recently he's been working from home but on the days he had to leave her,

A WEEK AND a half.That's how long Sreya's been missing. That's how long he hasn't left his house. That's how long he hasn't shaved. That's how long he's not been answering calls or text messages. That's how long he's been.. Drinking.He looked like shit. And felt like shit.Dazed, he slowly swirled the golden liquid in his tumbler. Now, usually.. Xaver'd never turn to liquor whilst grieving. Matter of fact, it annoyed him when people did that but... You know when you're told never to judge other people until you've been in their position? Until you've walked in their shoes? You really shouldn't. Because.. He now understood why people turned to liquor. It kinda helps with the pain.. Numb it a little... Or it makes you think it's helping your pain.. And he needed that deception right now. Badly.His lips curling into a sad small smile, h

LUCAS WAS LOST in thought, the paperwork on his desk already forgotten. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that Clara'd come in wearing a flimsy robe with nothing beneath or if it was her sexual, intoxicating scent that still lingered but he found himself on a trip down memory lane.  They used to be so happy. So content. It'd been a hassle getting someone as terribly strong-minded as Clara to trust him fully but he'd succeeded and it'd been bliss.. A part of him still harbored hope that someday.. They'd be as happy as they'd once been but with every passing month that his wife barely glanced at him unless under public scrutinization.. Lucas watched the tiny ray of the light of hope at the end of the tunnel dim.  Suddenly realizing he wasn't alone, blue eyes shifted to the door and he could swear his heartbeat picked up

GARY HUTCHINSON LOOKED round his office with tired eyes and stifled a yawn. It was 8:37PM on a Thursday night and he was beyond exhausted. On some days, being a private investigator left you with some time on your hands.. On other days.. It didn't.Absentmindedly, he reached for the tumbler sitting beside his open laptop, swirling the yellowish liquid inside as he studied the picture of the young woman in front of him.Sreya Dronian. The Kirkgardes were willing to pay triple the price he'd normally charge if he could find her presto. The relationship between the doctor and the only heir to the Kirkgarde family fortune and business was roaringly overt and owing to this, their desperation failed to spark his surprise.Also, he wanted that money as much as he wanted to visit one of the best brothels in Verum City and soak himself inside a warm, willing body. Normally, Gary schedules his vis

IN THE IMMURING darkness, the private detective took an incredibly long drag of his cigar, upper eyelids drifting close as he felt the smoke heat his lungs and sheath his whole body in a buzzing satisfactory warmth.Sitting in his aweary Toyota, Gary ignored the harsh bite of the incredibly cold air on his nose and cheeks as he warmed his body from within.  Gazing outside his window, he let his eyes roam the abandoned, crumbling building that had once been a mental asylum.The towering, desolate edifice illuminated by the faint, silver beams of the moon seemed ghostlier and more haunting than Gary remembered. As a long trail of dark smoke from his cigar ascended towards the pitch-black sky, he recalled the little he'd read about the deinstitutionalization of the yawning, tardily disintegrating building before him.Years ago, on a date that eluded him—Gary wasn't good with dates—th