Page 37 of Daddy's Sinner

“You should know, considering you already know so much,” I reply, my eyes fixed on him.

He runs his hand down the unscarred side of his face. “I’ve been watching you since I pulled my ass back from the brink of death. You move in and out of shadows—a priest who’s not exactly a priest. What are you waiting for? The right time to strike Victor down?”

I resist the urge to reach for my concealed weapon, my fingers brushing lightly against its hilt. My code is clear. I only draw blood when absolutely necessary. The man in front of me smiles, but the coldness behind it never allows it to reach his eyes.

“I wasn’t following you at first,” he says. “I was tracking them for Zia’s sake.” His words hang in the air between us, and for a moment, I consider trusting him. But my instincts are on high alert, warning me not to let my guard down.

“I can be of use to you,” he continues confidently, mimicking an explosion with his open arms. There’s something about him that feels familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Nevertheless, I remain wary of his offer. “I can make things go up in flames quite beautifully. And look, I know Victor and his cult of crazies are on to you—the sinful priest.”

Rolling my neck until it cracks, I keep my eyes fixed on him. “You know an awful lot for someone who barely made it out alive,” I say, raising an eyebrow as I palm the blade into my hand.

He shrugs and stands, brushing off his hoodie. “You can trust me or not, but the truth remains—he’s on to you. This town has eyes everywhere. I can smell her cunt on you.”

I stiffen at his last words, my grip tightening around my weapon.

“Crude, aren’t you?” I retort, the disdain in my voice matching the disgust on my face. He simply smirks, seemingly unfazed by my flippant response. “You watch your mouth,” I growl, on the brink of forgetting my code. But this man’s irreverent talk hits a nerve I didn’t even realize was exposed.

“I’m just stating facts,” he answers with a shrug, his scar twisting grotesquely with his grin. “Your clock is ticking, Priest, just as Zia’s did, and just as your precious little angel’s is. Victor would kill you and her before he lets his Dove go. Your best bet is to let him capture you and pray that she feels as strongly for you as you do for her.”

The audacity of him, trying to tell me how to manage my affairs. I’m not a man who listens well to others, least of all a stranger. Yet his words hold weight, and I can’t ignore the truth hidden within them.

“You make it sound so simple,” I let out a sarcastic laugh, my voice dripping with disdain.

The man stops in his tracks, his back still toward me, but I can feel the smug smirk on his face as he responds. “It’s your only chance, Priest. This town is crawling with his followers; there’s no way you can purify this forsaken place and save your woman. You should leave while you still can. Get rid of the Prophet and leave.”

He turns and continues making his way to the exit. The door slams shut behind him as he leaves the church.

Days later, I still barely get any sleep. I never see him again, but the feeling of unease remains. And to make matters worse, I think he’s right—Victor is definitely preparing for something. Despite my desperate urge to seek out Marisol, it’s been days since I last saw her, and yet I can still taste her on my tongue. My cock hardens at the thought, and just as I reach to palm it, forcing it back to calmness, the scent of cocoa butter and fields invades my senses.

I’m outside the Church of Eden, hidden in the shadows, staking it out. There she is, standing beside her father, dressed in all white. Her face is covered by a white lace veil, and a white satin dress covers her entire beautiful body, leaving only her hands exposed. I want nothing more than to rip that hideous dress off her and take her right there in front of everyone. But I’m here to watch, I remind myself, trying to swallow down the animalistic urges threatening to take over. My fists clench in frustration, knuckles white as my nails dig into my palms, the pain bringing me back to reality.

I watch from the shadows as men in white robes appear in front of the altar.

“I welcome the new generation of seedlings,” Victor preaches, his voice booming through the church. “The men blessed by God with the gift of procreation, only their blessed seeds can be used on the pureness of the maidens in wait.”

He places his hand on the small of Marisol’s back, and she flinches at the unwelcome touch. That’s my girl.

I can’t believe I’m listening to this. I grit my teeth, trying to maintain my composure as he continues to preach his nonsense, and these idiots eat it up as if it’s their last meal, offering their lives to follow a fake. This town has become a medieval hellhole, with its cult-like followers worshiping a power-hungry monster.

“My Lilith has blessed the young Seedlings, and I have blessed the maidens. Now we should join them,” he shouts. “Celebrate the union, the creation of new life. As many of you know, my marriage to Marisol—”

His words fill me with a rage I’ve only felt once before, a very long time ago. But now, I want to feel his blood, and that moment seals his fate. I will kill him and claim her while she’s covered in his blood. And I will, because she’s mine.

Victor continues, his voice echoing, “—means the prophecy is coming to fruition. We are creating a new world, a world free of sin and corruption, a world in which my vision will be realized. A world where only the chosen, flawless souls shall roam.”

His followers join together in a chorus of agreement, their voices bouncing off the stone walls. The sight of them makes my skin crawl, and I can feel anger and hatred building up inside me like a volcanic eruption waiting to be unleashed.

Marisol, still covered by the veil and dressed in white, looks around nervously. A sense of protectiveness surges within me, and I know I have to act quickly to put an end to this madness. Victor raises his hands to the ceiling as he continues to preach to his mindless cult.

“Tonight, we will join together in the act of creation. The Seedlings will plant their seeds in the wombs of the maidens, bringing new life to our sanctuary.”

My blood boils at the thought of these assholes getting away with this. And that asshole is definitely not filling Marisol with his seed, nor is he marrying her. Sick bastard.

As the service continues, I carefully creep closer to the altar, maintaining my position in the shadows. I want to see everything Victor has planned and make sure Marisol is safe. My hand grips the handle of my concealed weapon, ready to strike if necessary. But that moment doesn’t come. The men in their white robes follow Victor out to another room, while the maidens go to a different one, leaving my precious little demon all to herself.

In a swift movement, she unveils her face, gasping for air. She pulls at her clothes—my girl is freaking out, and as much as I want her, I can’t risk getting caught now. Watching from the shadows, I see her grip the altar, her dark curls falling over her face like curtains, shielding the panic rising inside her. Marisol’s mind is waging a war—her duty, all she’s ever known, fighting against her demons. The parts of her that reach for me and separate her from the Dove she was groomed to be.

Forcing myself to stay hidden, I know the time is drawing near to make a move, but I can’t risk it until I’m absolutely sure.

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