Page 100 of Sinner's Fury

My eyes widened a fraction as Jane threw her head back and cackled.

Fuck!

“Now, before you boys have your fun,” the bitch said, holding up her phone, snapping several pictures, “I need her pretty face untarnished so I can put them up on the site. My niece is sure to bring in a hefty price.”

Pocketing her phone, she leaned forward and whispered something in Steele’s ear, before she disappeared back into the darkness.

The second she was gone, Steele wasted no time punching me in the face. A sharp, stinging pain shot through my face as Steele’s hand connected, the sound of the impact echoing in the silence.

“I’m first,” he growled, stroking his cock. “Hoist her higher.”

I gasped when Dakota yanked the chain, the rusty metal biting into my wrists as he stretched me painfully, my toes barely brushing the cold, hard floor. My wrists screamed in protest as the tight metal cuffs dug in, the rough edges grating against my skin. With the awkward position and my limbs twistedat impossible angles, I was completely at their mercy. A raw, desperate wail of terror escaped my lips, exposing my complete vulnerability and helplessness. The sound echoed the fear that choked me.

“Gray, shut that bitch up!” Steele snarled, while his eyes roamed up and down my body. Movement to my left had me trembling as Gray threw his arm back and punched me in the face, knocking my head back.

A cruel laugh escaped Steele’s lips while he watched my discomfort, his eyes gleaming with malicious joy, as he inched closer. Standing in a corner, Dakota indulged in a bottle of whiskey, taking deep gulps while stroking himself to an erection. With a swift, brutal backhand, Steele smashed my face, the impact splitting my lip and sending a searing pain through my head. My mouth instantly filled with the acrid taste of blood as I sobbed uncontrollably. Steele’s heavy hands crushed and brutally groped my breasts.

Licking the side of my face, I shuddered in revulsion when his thick fingers pressed between my legs. The sudden invasion sent a jolt of nausea through me while I kicked and pushed at him. My knee caught him in the groin. It was only a glancing blow, but the force made him stumble backward, releasing me as a pained groan escaped him.

His eyes blazed with furious anger as he straightened, a visible tension in his body.

“You’ll pay for that, bitch,” he whispered menacingly.

Walking over to his jeans, he pulled out a switchblade and flipped it open.

A bright light glinted off the blade, and a cold dread, as sharp as the weapon itself, pierced my heart. I could almost feel the icy weight of the steel. The thought of that knife against my exposed skin sent shivers down my spine. A silent tremor ran throughme while I fought to stay still, my head shaking slowly, my eyes begging for mercy.

With deliberate slowness, Steele slid his knife down between my breasts. A sharp, burning sensation shot through me when I felt the warm trickle of blood roll down my stomach. Despite my best efforts to remain completely immobile, a shudder ran through me as the cold steel of the blade made contact with my skin. With a slow, deliberate step, he approached and then, in a cruel and torturous act, ran the knife’s edge across my breasts, inflicting excruciating pain. Repulsed by the powerful smell of whiskey emanating from his breath, a wave of nausea washed over me, prompting me to turn my head to the side to avoid the overwhelming stench.

Impatient, Gray snarled, “Fuck this. You’re taking too long.” He wrapped a belt around my neck from behind, cutting off my air.

My eyes widened in horror when I felt Gray’s cock seeking entrance from behind while Steele lined himself up and jammed his cock deep into my pussy.

Closing my eyes, I silently pleaded for Christian to hurry as the darkness took me.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Joshua Stone

I stood before the door with my arms folded tightly across my chest. Silently observing Fury as he paced back and forth, his agitated movements a stark contrast to my own stillness, I remained quiet, offering no comment. Just minutes before the plane touched down in Worcester, Mercy received an urgent text message from O’Malley, informing us of a serious situation requiring our immediate presence at St. Vincent’s Hospital. Given that the threat came from the notoriously violent head of the Irish Mob, I interpreted it as an extremely serious warning, so I quietly informed Lynk to alert the others, excluding Fury.

When I first met Christian, he was no more than an angry sixteen-year-old punk, who back then, worked for Renaldo’s father, Rafaello Romano. Filled with furious anger and incredibly disrespectful, he showed utter disregard for everyone and everything around him. Continuously in trouble with the law, Christian was headed down a dark and dangerous path, a path that would inevitably consume him if he didn’t quickly gain control of his anger. Exacerbating the situation, Rafaello’s nonchalant attitude and deliberate provocation of Christian’s anger fueled the flames of Christian’s rage until it completely overwhelmed him. Without intervention, Christian faced a lengthy and difficult incarceration.

There was a certain quality about Christian that inexplicably intrigued me. Something in his demeanor or presence commanded my attention, and so, in a sudden, spontaneous act of generosity—without pausing to rationally assess the implications—I offered to sponsor him. If I had understood the full ramifications of my actions, I would have walked away and let him fend for himself, thus avoiding the considerable difficulties that subsequently followed.

Though hesitant, I embraced the challenge. However, Christian proved to be a formidable opponent, testing me relentlessly.

To the outside world, Christian Michael Moreno projected an image of a loving father, evidenced by the photos of his smiling children, a devoted son, seen regularly visiting his family home, and a highly successful businessman, whose expensive car and tailored suits spoke volumes. However, on the inside, Christian was a man capable of extreme violence, a volatile and bloodthirsty individual who could explode with rage at any instant, similar to a ticking time bomb. For many years, Christian struggled with anger management problems, which he failed to address, and those problems ultimately culminated into the man who stood before me today.

My efforts to help Christian control the deep-seated anger that raged inside him spanned years and countless hours spent in diverse settings, ranging from the structured environments of gyms and boxing clubs to the more informal and sometimes dangerous atmosphere of fighting rings and back alleys. I’d tried everything within my power to control the beast within him, but the moment George Stone commanded Christian to get close to Davina Duchene and get her pregnant, a wave of icy dread washed over me. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that I’d made a grave mistake. But the choice wasn’t mine, and in the end, Christian agreed. George may have believed thatChristian would dehumanize the woman, but I had a strong feeling that wouldn’t be the case.

Unlike his brothers, whose allegiances shifted like desert sands, Christian’s unwavering belief in family loyalty—a conviction etched into the very core of his being—would ultimately trump all other considerations. The revelation that Davina had been murdered, coupled with the knowledge that Blackwell and her ambitious son were hunting his daughters in order to seize control of Duchene International, shattered Christian’s composure, unleashing a torrent of rage. It was a twist of fate that led me to the city that night. The sounds of heavy breathing and grunts pulled me toward a clandestine underground fight club, where I witnessed Christian’s fierce struggle against multiple opponents. I’d been sent to the bustling city, a concrete jungle teeming with noise and activity, to hunt down Jasper Michaels, also known as Hawk, but instead found Christian.

I spent almost two weeks helping him regain his mental equilibrium following the shocking revelation that Linsey, Davina’s sister, had taken his children. Linsey’s arrival in the city with Vicious and the girls in tow resulted in an unforeseen development. They became the only thing that could control his ferocious, beastly side.

Until Charlotte.

Even I had to admit, I never saw that one coming. Their personalities clashed. One was outgoing and boisterous, the other quiet and reserved. The quiet gentleness of her voice contrasted sharply with his booming laughter and thirst for excitement, yet beneath it all lay a perfect understanding that made their partnership thrive. From my understanding, it was an instant connection. I always fucking knew when Christian gave his whole heart to someone, it would be game over. He was a one-woman man, and I thought that woman was Davina, but Iwas wrong. Oh, he may have cared deeply for Davina, but I think he knew deep down that what they had would always be fleeting.

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