Page 1 of Dance With A Devil

Prologue

Who were we?

The better question is, who let them decide?

They call us Devils like it’s a curse. A warning.

But they forget, we never asked for forgiveness.

The Elders carved the name into our bones long before we understood the weight of it. They wore suits instead of horns. Smiled as they buried bodies. Played gods while calling it tradition.

And we?

We were just their legacy in waiting.

Taught to obey. Programmed to forget. Bound by blood, not by choice.

But something cracked.

Someone remembered. And now the rot is showing.

No more playing pieces in a game built on secrets and silence.

This empire, they built it with lies. We'll tear it down with fire.

A life for a life. A sin for a secret. And every scream will be accounted for.

My Little Fox is caught in their web. But they didn’t realize, she’s mine now. And I don’t let go.

The boys they bred are gone. What’s left are monsters of our own making. And we’re not just here to reclaim the name.

We’re here to make them choke on it. The Devils of Cliffside have come home. And we brought the reckoning with us.

Chapter One

Wyck

Past

I’m trapped in the lair of a man who thinks God made him in His image, just meaner. My father doesn’t speak.

He roars. Breaks things that don’t belong to him. Throws punches when words won’t bend the world his way. Right now,that rage is thick in the air, suffocating, syrupy, and soaked in bourbon.

A paperweight shatters against the wall near my head.

Glass rains down like it’s snowing violence.

Another tantrum.

Another symphony of destruction composed in my honor.

He’s pacing like a caged animal behind his desk, muttering curses under his breath, some aimed at me, some at the Devil only he thinks he outranks. When he sucks his teeth, it clicks like a landmine. That little tick in his jaw pulses as if something’s gnawing at him from the inside out.

Good. Let it eat him alive.

His hair’s slicked back, tight to his skull, revealing that bulbous forehead that makes him look more cartel than corporate. His gold rings flash like warnings. Every time he cracks his knuckles, it sounds like bones breaking in advance.

He's preparing to use them.