~Elias's POV~
The dim light of the confessional booth flickered like a guilty secret, casting shadows that danced across the worn wooden lattice separating me from the sinners of St. Mary's.
I was Father Elias, a man who'd traded the wild pulse of the city streets for the solemn vows of the priesthood two decades ago. But tonight, as the clock struck nine and the urban hum outside the chapel faded into a distant roar, I felt the devil himself whispering through the grill. Her voice... Sandra's, slithered in like smoke, thick with sin and something far more dangerous... raw, unfiltered lust.
'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a week since my last confession.' Her words hit me like a shot of whiskey, burning straight to my core.
Sandra.
The stripper from the seedy clubs
