Big Bad Wolf

Big Bad Wolf Copyright Big Bad Wolf—Twisted Boys of New York(book1.5) © 2023 Stacey Marriott All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author. Disclaimer *Please Note: This book is labeled as “Dark” for a reason. If you are sensitive or easily triggered by subjects and actions that are common in “dark” romance, please take that into consideration and read responsibly.* 18+ spicy scenes Trigger warning Violence /blood and gore Sex trafficking Contents 1. Prologue 2. One Month Later 3. Madz 4. Madz 5. Madz 6. Madz 7. Raz 8. Madz 9. Madz 10. Raz 11. Madz 12. Raz 13. Madz 14. Madz 15. Madz 16. Madz 17. Raz 18. Madz 19. Raz 20. Madz 21. Raz 22. Madz 23. Raz 24. Madz 25. Raz 26. Madz 27. Madz 28. Madz 29. Raz 30. Madz 31. Raz 32. Madz 33. Raz Thank You Prologue Madz “D addy, please don’t leave me here. If you go, there will be nothing left for me.” I speak quietly to myself, pacing outside of daddy’s hospital room. He’s been on life support for the last couple of months with no turnaround. Nothing, zilch. Every day I hope for a miracle, but one isn’t coming. Today’s the day they’re taking him off life support and as an only child with no mother, all of this is my responsibility. Although I don’t mind, I’d do anything for my dad. He’s the only man who has ever loved me. And the only man I’ve ever loved. I was supposed to start college next semester, but there’s no way I’ll have it in me. Not while arranging my father’s funeral. Just the thought leaves a heavy sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Closing my eyes, I One Month Later Madz D efinitely shouldn’t be out here this late at night. My heels clack against the concrete. I don’t carry a purse, but I am clutching onto my wallet for dear life. How could I be so stupid? I really thought trying to go out tonight would get my mind off daddy. Well, news flash, it didn’t. And another news flash, I guess I forgot I’m not 21. Nope, I’m 18, and most of the time my fake I.D. works. Guess what? Not tonight, it didn’t work tonight and now I’m stuck walking down the street in a short and tight black dress. With my makeup and hair done, at night, alone and unprotected. That’s all right. I suppose I am looking for a job, maybe lady of the streets would be fruitful. “Help—somebody.” I hear a girl scream. Listen, I know this might