Drous | THE SOVEREIGNS
“You trembled so sweetly when I pulled your panties down with my teeth. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for it. He touched you like you were fragile. I touch you like you’re mine.”
Drous is not a man who kneels. Not to kings. Not to gods.
But for you—he would burn the world bare.
FEMPOV.
DEDICATION
To all the girls who gave their throats to the man with blood on his hands—because no man fucks you like the one who’d kill for you...
Drous Nkoir. The mafia king with blood on his hands and sin in his smile. He doesn’t just kill—he breaks. Not bones. Not bodies. Souls. He whispers lies like love songs and watches empires crumble with a drink in hand. His presence doesn’t make grown men flinch—it makes them sweat, makes them confess sins they haven’t even committed yet.