Chapter 17: The Devil’s Bargain: Chapter 16

The Devil’s Playground isn’t just our moneymaker.

It’s our headquarters.

It only made sense. The more powerful the Sinners Syndicate became, the more space we needed. What started as a small bar turned into a half-a-block-wide structure as we bought more and more property, building onto it. The second floor became the spot dedicated to the working girls, the back rooms were where the gamblers went to spend their dough, and the office space next store was where the Sinners met.

It’s not always about business. There’s a gaming area inside, complete with billiards table, dartboards, and three vintage arcade games. We have a separate bar for the syndicate, an on-site cook, and a swimming pool.

But, on the rare occasion that I call a syndicate meet instead of one-on-ones, we have a conference room that rivals anything in corporate America.

The conference room has a long ass table, at least twenty seats, the most boring carpet in the world, and no windows. I hate the fucking place. I only go in there when I need to, when I have to remind the gang that I’m in charge, or when I’m meeting with the mayor of Springfield and his cronies. Dumb prick insists on “privacy”, as though I don’t have eyes on him and his twinks at all times, or know that he spends as much time schmoozing with Damien as he does me and my men.

Today, I have my men all lined up at the wall. The seats are stacked together, shoved to the far side of the room, leaving only the empty table in the middle.

Well, it’s empty for now, but it won’t be much longer…

Ava is standing next to me. Under the scrutiny of the Sinners, she tried to duck behind me, but I want to show off my gorgeous bride. She has her light brown hair styled in soft curls today, her green eyes bright, her creamy skin so damn touchable… and I can’t wait until I can. Taking her hand, I tug her into my side, letting her know she has my protection while also keeping her front and center in front of the men.

I make a noise in the back of my throat. Each one stops glancing on Ava, focusing on me entirely.

Good.

“Evening, fellas. I’m gonna make this quick because I’m wasting precious time with my new bride”—the first murmurs erupt, before Royce waves a hand gesturing for them to shut the hell up—“and I’d rather be with her than looking at your ugly mugs. But I figured it was time to introduce you to her, so I gathered you here for a quick announcement and an illustration. First, the announcement.” I still have Ava’s hand clasped in mine. Lifting it high, making sure they can see the dark lines of my name on her all-important ring finger, I say, “This is Ava Crewes. For those who don’t know, she is my wife. We eloped last month, and now that I’ve had her to myself for a while, I thought it was time to introduce her to the syndicate.”

The men who have met her previously all nod their acknowledgement. Ava squeezes my fingers, obviously aware of the confusion, interest, and distrust coming from those who are just now hearing about her.

That’s okay. I set up this meet to prove to her—the syndicate, too, but mostly her—that she’s mine, and I’m ready to do that.

No matter what it takes.

“Now, I’m not a fucking idiot. I know there’s been talk of me stepping down because I didn’t want a wife before. For some reason, the Sinners think I’m dying to get an heir, but if that’s what you guys want from your leader, fine. I got a wife, but even then some of you are doubters.” I run my gaze over all of them. “Sham marriage. Fake marriage… for fuck’s sake, it’s gotten back to me that some of you fuckers think she’s my beard. Well, I’m more than happy to show you just how much your boss loves pussy.”

Ava turns to me, eyes wide in shock. I expected that. When I told her I wanted to present her to the Sinners, I instructed her to wear a short dress I bought just for the occasion—and not to bother with panties. She’s gotten better at giving up putting that scrap of a barrier between us, and I checked her myself earlier when Luca was driving us over to the Playground.

She’s ready for me, and I’m ready for this.

Leaning in, brushing my stubbled jaw against her cheek, I whisper, “You’re gonna love this.”

“Link, I don’t think—”

“Do you trust your husband?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then trust me. Keep your eyes on me and just enjoy the ride.”

I pull back before Ava can say another word. Letting go of her hand, I grip her waist, lifting her easily. We’d been standing to the side of the conference table so all it takes is a twist and a turn before she’s propped up on the edge of it.

One shove. That’s all it takes to get the hem of her dress out of my way.

Then, dropping to my knees, I ignore the murmurs and comments from the men as he lay my hands on her thighs.

“It’s just me and you, Ava,” I tell her, putting a small amount of pressure on her to spread her legs wide. I don’t force her—I never would—but I show her what I want.

After a moment’s hesitation, she gives it to me.

Her curls are already glistening with her need. That’s my girl. Turned on more by the fact that we have an audience than how she has the most powerful fucker in all of the city at her mercy, she’s already keening before I get my hot mouth on her cunt.

Once I do, Ava closes her eyes, throwing back at her head, writhing as if she can’t get enough of me.

Perfect. She’s reacting just like I thought she would, and she’s motherfucking perfect.

Leaning back, I reach up, snagging on of her hands. “Pull my hair,” I murmur, loud enough for the others to hear. “Grab on tight. I’m only just getting started, pet.”

I know what the guys have to be thinking. No one touches Devil. Idiots have earned broken fingers for just brushing up against me, and here I am, feasting on Ava’s pussy while encouraging her to thread her fingers through my hair.

That alone should’ve been enough to prove my point. Just in case it isn’t, I massage her thighs, ripping pants, grunts, and moan out of my wife as I nuzzle her clit, flicking it with my tongue before returning my attention to lapping at her entrance.

As soon as I feel like I’ve made my point, I stop drawing it out. Dedicating everything I have in me to making my wife come, I slip two of my fingers inside of her, giving her something to clench as I nibble her clit, then suck her labia into my mouth as I fingerfuck her to completion.

When I have, I don’t wipe my mouth. With my lips shiny from Ava’s juices, I pat her thighs closed, go to one knee, then the other, and rise up to my full height so they can all see how much I enjoyed letting Ava ride my face in front of them.

Eyes blazing at every Sinner assembled in the conference room, I tell them, “This woman is Ava Crewes. She’s my wife. My everything. And I want each of you to know that she owns me. Got that?”

For a moment, there’s absolute silence, but then Royce whistles between his teeth. Following his lead, applause breaks out, all of the men calling out their congratulations to Ava and me.

Over the roar of their congratulations, one of the men scoffs.

Like a shark zeroing in on its prey, I get the blond in my sights. Silence falls as I take a few pointed steps toward him.

“Twig.” The single syllable is like ice. “You got something to say?”

“Well, yeah, boss. I get that she’s your wife and all now, but that doesn’t change the way things work around here.”

Is that so?

“Oh? And how do things work?”

Royce shakes his head. Killian, standing on the other side of Twig, takes a noticeable step away from him.

Smart.

Twig doesn’t notice. “You know. She’s yours. I get that we gotta munch some pussy to keep our ladies happy, but you’re the boss. If you wanted to prove that she belongs to you, she should’ve been sucking your dick instead.”

Why would she when the whole purpose of his public display was so that there wasn’t a single doubt let in her mind—and the syndicate’s—about her place in my life?

“Didn’t you hear me? This woman owns me.”

“I don’t know, boss. I still think she should’ve been the one to go to her knees.”

My fingers flex. “What? Like a whore?”

For the first time, he looks a little uneasy. “I didn’t say that.”

Yes. He did.

“Link,” murmurs Ava. “I want to go home.”

Not yet. “She should’ve gone to her knees, right? You said that.” When Twig opens his mouth, I cut him off before he can say another word. “Don’t deny it. Come on, Twiggy. We’re all Sinners here. What if I said I’d let her go to her knees for you. You think you can handle my wife?”

Ava reaches out, touching the back of my arm. “Lincoln.”

There’s no Lincoln here. No Link, either.

Only the Devil.

Now, I don’t know what the fuck this kid thinks being a Sinner means, because sharing girls… that shit doesn’t fly here. After that happened to Royce… even if my guys wanted to share, I put a stop to that years ago. Twig hasn’t been a soldier long enough to figure that out, I guess.

Too bad.

Shaking Ava off of me, I gesture at Twig. “Go one. Take it out, big guy. Show us what you got.”

“Don’t do it,” Royce mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “Just drop it and hope Devil does, too.”

Twig is a stupid son of a bitch. My second gave him a chance to back down. Doing his job, coming between me and the rest of the Sinners, Royce was trying to save Twig’s dumb ass.

It doesn’t work.

Twig jerks his chin at me. “Yeah, boss. Alright. And because she’s your woman, I’ll try my best not to gag her.”

Ava gasps, and I drop my hand, waggling my fingers, sending her a wordless message not to let what this idiot is saying get to her.

I’m straight as an arrow, but I’d rather suck a cock myself than every watch Ava go down on another guy.

Twig doesn’t know that, though—but he will.

I look forward to it, too.

Now, if he’d been limp, expecting Ava’s mouth to get him hard, I might’ve given him a pass for his little stunt. I’d still teach him a lesson—especially since Mona identified him as one of the mouths talking shit about my wife—but things might have been different. Going down on Ava, showing the rest of the syndicate just how much power she has over me… that wasn’t meant to get them off. It was meant to show them that she was my queen.

But Twig doesn’t have a flaccid cock, or even one that’s semi-hard. Oh, no. It’s a full-blown erection, and he yanks it out of his pants with a smirk on his face that tells me he’s already imagining what it’ll be like to have Ava’s lush lips wrapped around him.

He pulls out his cock.

I pull out my piece.

Over the sudden silence, I hear Ava suck in a breath—and Royce mutter, “Fucking moron,” under his.

He knows. My second knows what’s coming.

I don’t disappoint.

With a steady hand and no emotion on my face, I aim for his exposed dick. One shot and, instead of my wife blowing him, Devil blows it the fuck off.

Close enough, right?

Twig barely gets the chance to rip a high-pitch squeal before I shift my hold on the gun, lifting it just high enough before putting a single bullet through his skull.

He’s dead before he hits the industrial carpet.

Royce stepped aside so that he was out of the spatter zone. Killian curses when he sees that he ended up with Twig’s blood on his suit because he was too slow to get out of the way, but he shuts his trap when I turn my gaze on him.

“Does anyone else think it’s a good idea to disrespect my wife?”

Behind me, Ava is panting softly. She’s probably close to hyperventilating, and I’m sorry she had to see Devil take control, but that dumb fuck thought I would let her suck his cock. My Ava on her knees for another man…

She goes to her knees for God—and for Devil. No one else.

And I want every Sinner to know it. If I have to exterminate my whole crew for her, I would.

I’d burn the fucking world down for this woman if I had to, and I’d offer her the match to blow out when I was done.

When no one else proves to have a death wish like Twig did, I nod at them.

“Leave us.”

There isn’t any hesitation. Knowing I’m dead fucking serious—and that my Sig Sauer has more than enough rounds to take out anyone else who looks at me twice—the Sinners scatter.

The only one who lingers is Royce. Grabbing two guys by their jackets—Frankie and Julio—he jerks his chin down at Twig’s body.

After a quick game of rock-papers-scissors that Frankie wins, he grabs Twig’s boots. Julio wrinkles his nose and wordlessly picks the dead man up by his arms. They carry him out of the conference room.

Royce salutes me, then follows after them, closing the door behind him.

I’ve regained some of my composure. Thawing out a little now that I know Twig got what he deserved, I turn slowly so that I can face Ava.

She’s a little shocky—like I expected—though her voice is steadier than I thought it would be as she says, “You killed him.”

I did. “He disrespected you.”

“But… you killed him.”

The idea seems so foreign to her, I almost feel sorry to have to rip the wool away from her eyes.

“It’s not the first time I’ve pulled the trigger,” I shrug. Especially for Ava’s sake. “It won’t be the last, either.”

“But don’t you feel bad? You killed him like it was—”

“Easy?” I supply.

She nods. “Yes.”

“It is.” Now. “And, no, I don’t feel bad at all.”

I see understanding dawn in her eyes, followed by something I pretend isn’t horror. “You really are the Devil, aren’t you?”

I stay quiet because what can I say? She’s not wrong.

Ava takes a few steps back before moving around me. “You don’t have any feelings at all, at least not about me. You don’t care that you embarrassed the hell out of me, putting me on display like that—”

“I only did it because I knew you would get off harder than you ever had with all those eyes on you.”

Ava scoffs, but she doesn’t deny it. She can’t. When it comes to her exhibitionist tendencies, we both know I’m right about that.

Instead, she snaps, “So? You still killed a guy bacause of your precious rep,” before turning her back on me.

I let her take a few steps, then admit that I was full of shit before when I said I’d let her go. Hell, no. This woman is never getting away from me.

“I have feelings,” I toss after her before she can cross the room.

She goes still.

“I have feelings, Ava,” I repeat. “Lust. Anger. Obsession. God, when I think of you, I want you so bad, that I’ll do anything for you. And you got it wrong. Killing Twig… I could give a shit about my rep. I did it so my men know that they’re not untouchable. When it comes to you, my Ava… I’d kill every last one of them for you.”

The weight of that realization has her swallowing roughly. It’s probably way too much for her, but she gets past it quickly, instead focusing on something else entirely.

“What happened to calling me ‘pet’?” she tosses back at me.

“I still own you. There’s no reason to call you my pet when I can call you mine.”

She seems to like that answer. Moving into me, biting the corner of her mouth as if she has something to say but doesn’t know how to say it, she finally spits it out.

“All those feelings you talked about Link… there’s one you didn’t mention. What about love?”

Is she serious? I love her more than life itself.

This close, I can touch her. Collaring her throat, I tilt her head back, meeting the defiant look in her face—and the undeniable fear in her green gaze.

My stomach flip-flops. I’ve never seen her look at me like that. It’s only for a split second, there and gone again, but I saw it.

And I know I’ll only scare her more if I tell her that I never stopped loving her.

“What do you think?” I sneer, taking her mouth, swallowing any answer she might’ve had.

As she clings to me, tasting herself on my lips, falling into me as through resigned to the fact that this is her life now, I wonder what she would’ve said.

It doesn’t matter.

She finally understands just who she married.

What she married.

I’m the Devil of Springfield, and she’s my wife—whether she wants to be or not.