Page 13
Story: Twisted Devotion
Not just off-limits—I should hate her as much as her brother. And I definitely shouldn’t be here, having these kinds of dreams about her.
Shoving the sheets off, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The cold floor bites at my feet, but it does nothing to cool the heat still simmering in my veins.
She’s in my head, and I hate it.
Frustrated, I head to the bathroom and step under the cold spray of the shower. The icy water pounds against my body, but it barely tempers the fire coursing through me.
As the water cascades down, I close my eyes, my hand sliding down to grip myself. The heat refuses to dissipate. In my mind, she’s there—on her knees before me, her lips parting, her eyes full of defiance and hunger. Her tongue swirls around my cock, and my breath hitches as the fantasy consumes me.
With a strangled groan, I finish, cumming and leaning against the cold tile for support. The relief is fleeting, replaced by an unwelcome wave of shame and anger.
What the hell is wrong with me?
As I dress and leave my room, I make a mental note: I need to get laid. And soon.
The underground garage greets me with its familiar gun oil and smoke mix. The air is heavy, charged with the metallic clang of weapons being checked and magazines being loaded. The sound echoes off the concrete walls, a rhythm as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
My men are scattered across the open space, each focused on their tasks. Near the back, I spot Luca and Ken.
Ken is impossible to miss—tall and broad, with unruly blond hair that looks like he’s just rolled out of bed and that ever-present crooked grin plastered on his face, even when shoving bullets into a rifle. His sharp tongue matches his sharp aim, but his loyalty is what sets him apart.
Though I'd never admit it outright, he’s one of my best men. I trust him enough to handle all our shipments, and today is no different.
“So, do we finally get to shoot someone today, or is this just another wild goose chase?” Ken says as I approach, his grin widening.
Luca clears his throat, his posture shifting awkwardly. “Boss.”
Ken straightens slightly, though his grin doesn’t falter. “Morning, Mr. Nicolas. Or wait—maybe it’s afternoon? Who can tell these days?”
“Shut up, Ken,” I mutter, brushing past him. I fight the urge to smirk; his antics never fail to amuse me, even when I don’t want them to.
“Checking the shipment?” I ask, keeping my tone businesslike. Ken nods, his hands still busy loading rounds.
Luca steps forward, holding a map and a stack of reports. “He’s not fumbling or stuttering today, and that’s a good sign. Confidence suits him.
“The shipment was intercepted here,” Luca says, pointing to a marked dock on the map. “No signs of a struggle. Just like I reported, whoever did this was in and out before anyone noticed.”
He pauses, tapping the map in three different spots. “That’s why we’ll station men here, here, and here.”
“So, we have another shipment coming in today. As you instructed, our men are already in position. Every corner of the harbor is covered in advance,” Luca says, pointing to the map on the table.
I glance over it, my jaw tightening. The past few days have been chaos—Aria, the intercepted shipment, and that dream this morning. It’s like I’m losing control, and I can’t stand it. I need to get a grip on something. Anything.
“When do we leave?” I ask, my tone sharp.
Ken and Luca exchange glances. Some men in the room stop mid-task, their attention momentarily drawn to me.
“You’re coming, Boss?” Ken’s voice is laced with his usual brand of sarcasm, though there’s genuine surprise in his expression. “Didn’t think fieldwork was your thing. You can’t exactly blend in on the streets.”
I shoot him a cold look. “I need to be there to make sure nothing goes wrong.
Ken whistles, clearly amused. “Well, this should be interesting.”
“There's something in the air,” I say, ignoring his remark. “Word about the missing shipment could have already spread. If we screw this one up, it’ll be bad for business—and worse for our reputation.”
Luca nods, though he still looks a little thrown by my decision. At least he has a good sense of staying quiet.
I turn to the rest of the room, raising my voice so everyone can hear. “Check your weapons. Make sure every gun is fully loaded. If you’re not ready to handle yourself out there, stay back and guard the house. Liability isn’t an option today.”
Shoving the sheets off, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The cold floor bites at my feet, but it does nothing to cool the heat still simmering in my veins.
She’s in my head, and I hate it.
Frustrated, I head to the bathroom and step under the cold spray of the shower. The icy water pounds against my body, but it barely tempers the fire coursing through me.
As the water cascades down, I close my eyes, my hand sliding down to grip myself. The heat refuses to dissipate. In my mind, she’s there—on her knees before me, her lips parting, her eyes full of defiance and hunger. Her tongue swirls around my cock, and my breath hitches as the fantasy consumes me.
With a strangled groan, I finish, cumming and leaning against the cold tile for support. The relief is fleeting, replaced by an unwelcome wave of shame and anger.
What the hell is wrong with me?
As I dress and leave my room, I make a mental note: I need to get laid. And soon.
The underground garage greets me with its familiar gun oil and smoke mix. The air is heavy, charged with the metallic clang of weapons being checked and magazines being loaded. The sound echoes off the concrete walls, a rhythm as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
My men are scattered across the open space, each focused on their tasks. Near the back, I spot Luca and Ken.
Ken is impossible to miss—tall and broad, with unruly blond hair that looks like he’s just rolled out of bed and that ever-present crooked grin plastered on his face, even when shoving bullets into a rifle. His sharp tongue matches his sharp aim, but his loyalty is what sets him apart.
Though I'd never admit it outright, he’s one of my best men. I trust him enough to handle all our shipments, and today is no different.
“So, do we finally get to shoot someone today, or is this just another wild goose chase?” Ken says as I approach, his grin widening.
Luca clears his throat, his posture shifting awkwardly. “Boss.”
Ken straightens slightly, though his grin doesn’t falter. “Morning, Mr. Nicolas. Or wait—maybe it’s afternoon? Who can tell these days?”
“Shut up, Ken,” I mutter, brushing past him. I fight the urge to smirk; his antics never fail to amuse me, even when I don’t want them to.
“Checking the shipment?” I ask, keeping my tone businesslike. Ken nods, his hands still busy loading rounds.
Luca steps forward, holding a map and a stack of reports. “He’s not fumbling or stuttering today, and that’s a good sign. Confidence suits him.
“The shipment was intercepted here,” Luca says, pointing to a marked dock on the map. “No signs of a struggle. Just like I reported, whoever did this was in and out before anyone noticed.”
He pauses, tapping the map in three different spots. “That’s why we’ll station men here, here, and here.”
“So, we have another shipment coming in today. As you instructed, our men are already in position. Every corner of the harbor is covered in advance,” Luca says, pointing to the map on the table.
I glance over it, my jaw tightening. The past few days have been chaos—Aria, the intercepted shipment, and that dream this morning. It’s like I’m losing control, and I can’t stand it. I need to get a grip on something. Anything.
“When do we leave?” I ask, my tone sharp.
Ken and Luca exchange glances. Some men in the room stop mid-task, their attention momentarily drawn to me.
“You’re coming, Boss?” Ken’s voice is laced with his usual brand of sarcasm, though there’s genuine surprise in his expression. “Didn’t think fieldwork was your thing. You can’t exactly blend in on the streets.”
I shoot him a cold look. “I need to be there to make sure nothing goes wrong.
Ken whistles, clearly amused. “Well, this should be interesting.”
“There's something in the air,” I say, ignoring his remark. “Word about the missing shipment could have already spread. If we screw this one up, it’ll be bad for business—and worse for our reputation.”
Luca nods, though he still looks a little thrown by my decision. At least he has a good sense of staying quiet.
I turn to the rest of the room, raising my voice so everyone can hear. “Check your weapons. Make sure every gun is fully loaded. If you’re not ready to handle yourself out there, stay back and guard the house. Liability isn’t an option today.”
Table of Contents
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