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A Spade brother: A Lord is placed strategically out into the world. But no Lord is safe from their own if they break their oath. If you don’t believe in hell, the Spade brothers will change your mind. They are a special kind of Lord. They will sit on their thrones and watch you burn to death for eternity with the fire they started. They give no fucks and have no limits. They collect the names they are given, and erase you from the world as if you never existed, and make you wish that was the truth.
When you’re raised in hell, heaven is a fairy tale that doesn’t exist.
“Do I get conjugal visits?” I ask, my mind going to a specific woman who is brunette with blue eyes. She’s the twin sister of Adam—another Spade brother—and everything I want. And one day, I’ll get her.
My fear is drowning to death. This is why this is my initiation. My father knows this. He found my mom once trying to drown me in the bathtub. She hated my father, and I fell into that category by association.
Ashtyn Lane Price belongs to me. She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will, very soon. And once I make her mine, the world will know it too.
I’ve watched her sleep and touched her face while hoping she was dreaming of me. I’m a man obsessed with a woman I haven’t been able to have. Some would call it creepy or pathetic. I call it devoted.
Me? A gentleman? She has no clue that I’m going to turn her into a dirty whore who will beg to be treated like a toy.
“If you ever get the chance, Ashtyn, you run. Run like hell and don’t ever look back. Do you understand me?”
I’ll be the one she fucks soon, and she’ll understand that God won’t be able to help her.
“There is no God here, sweetheart. Make no mistake, you will kneel for me, but the things I have planned for you are anything but holy.”
“You’re going to beg me for it, aren’t you? Like a good girl needing to be treated like the slut she is.”
I know that makes me a bastard. The villain in her story. It sounds like I’m heartless and cold. And I might be, but I sure as fuck don’t care.
Careful what you wish for, ladies. Sometimes the devil hears you and delivers exactly what you want, knowing it will be the last thing you ever get.
I know Saint. He thinks I can’t do this. And I’m going to suck this dick like I’m a man on center stage for a fucking hot dog eating contest on the Fourth of July, dammit.
A song filters down the long and cold hallway. “Hallelujah” by No Resolve. It makes the hairs on my neck rise. It's such an odd song to be played down here.
“I’ve always loved you, Ashtyn.” My pulse races. “Haidyn—”
Idk why i didnt see this coming
My eyes are on Haidyn’s peaceful, but bloody face as Gavin pulls the white sheet up and over it, covering my dead brother from the world.
WHAT NO?!?!?
