Page 2 of Sire
“Hmm. Clothing optional?” Axel smirks. “I’ll be amending my wedding vows with Ruby tomorrow.”
Nash sips his whisky. “Like fuck you’d let Ruby answer the door topless.”
Jace huffs, “Like fuck he could stop her.”
I preach, “Because we’re all so goddamn in love.”
Our entire family is here in Mykonos for Axel and Ruby’s wedding, and this is how I wish I had met my wife: absolutely gobsmacked at how fucking amazing this brave woman is.
But that’s not the lethal life my brothers and I lead, and I can’t tell anymore if we were born into danger, or if we choose it.
Tough to say.
We just do it.
We escaped the Bratva as boys, only to make our ownmafia of vigilante justice seekers as men, led by our badass mom, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
In two days, I may lose my family and life over what I did to save them, and I’d do it again.
The chorus returns. Wren bends down, kissing me before her smiling lips sing, “If you love bean enchiladas…”
And why am I smiling back? Why do I know all hell will break loose?
Because I know hell.
I’m the son of the devil.
But as a pastor now, I believe in heaven, too.
I smile because I have my Wren, my wife, my heaven on Earth. She’s my soul’s salvation because I met her, like this…
CHAPTER ONE
SIRE
A year ago…
You know the saying,“Give the devil his due.”
It’s to acknowledge the good qualities of an evil person.
Why, thank you. I appreciate it.
Because I am the Devil looking at this Angel.
“Girls, turn around. Full circle. Come on! Show them the goods!” The seller barks, and the girls cry, shaking and obeying…except…
This one.
“Yeah,” I gloat. “This one’s mine!”
She’s no girl. She’s a young woman with pert breasts, rouge nipples, and a dark mound, peeking through her white silk slip.
I can’t tell her maturity by her body because some of the underage girls in here have mature-looking bodies, too. But it’s their eyes betraying their innocence. They’re way too young for the hell they’re being sold into.
Okay, being trafficked and sold is hell at any age, but I cantell this one is wiser beyond her years. Her eyes don’t shake in terror. Her half-naked body doesn’t tremble. Her tawny cheeks are dry.
She’s the only one not crying.
