Sinful: A Dark Asylum Bully Romance (The Boys of Chapel Crest Book 5)

The last place on this planet I wanted to be was in the fucking Underground.

“Dante,” a guard murmured, inclining his head at me as I passed by.

I said nothing, continuing to walk with my head held high. I was a king in this hell on earth. I made sure everyone here knew it too. Being gone as long as I had, I assumed maybe they’d gone lax without me. The fucks in this place sure scrambled to welcome me though.

Last summer, I’d spent my time traveling. I’d returned home long enough to grab a few things before heading out. I hadn’t even stepped foot into this hellhole in nearly two years.

But here I was now, walking the halls and having these fucks bow to me.

They weren’t bowed far enough. That’s all I knew. They should have been on their fucking knees with my knife to their throats.

“Welcome home,” another said when I walked past.

I remained wordless, irritated that I was even here in the first place. But it wasn’t because of my specter. I’d do this happily in her place. Here, she’d become twisted and broken. I didn’t want that for my girl. I was pissed because it shouldn’t have to be this way. My entire life, all I wanted was a normal family. A father who loved me, my mother, and Stitches. Maybe a little fluffy dog. I’d have played football or hockey. Went to a regular high school. Wouldn’t have a mental health history as long as my fucking leg.

Alas, I didn’t like dwelling on that shit.

But sometimes, it crept through my mind, so I’d give it a few moments in the spotlight before kicking it out as I did to everything else in my life that bothered me.

I pushed open the door to the punishment center and strode forward, dressed in all black like the demon I was.

“Dante, my son,” my father greeted me with a smile and his warm hand in the center of my back. “Right on time. It’s one of the finer aspects of your personality.”

“What needs to be done?” I asked, ignoring his bullshit and speaking in the monotone I’d adopted just for him and these circumstances.

I’d only been here a few hours and already I was growing bored.

My father chuckled as the man with the blindfold on whimpered between the two hulking assholes who held him.

“A lot of the same old nonsense. He owes me money. Tried to touch what didn’t belong to him. Punish him as you see fit.” He clapped me on the back and took a step back.

I stared at the man for a moment, falling into my old routine. It was like riding a bike. It wasn’t something easily forgotten.

“Get me a table,” I snapped to no one in particular. This place was dark magic, though, and seconds later, someone was scurrying inside with a table for me. They placed it in front of the man, who let out a soft cry through the gag in his mouth.

I stepped toward him and stopped on the other side of the table.

“Kneel,” I commanded.

The man shook violently and pissed himself.

I let out a soft snarl when he remained on his feet.

The guys holding him knew me well enough. They knew I wanted complete submission from the people being punished, which was why they hadn’t put him on his knees for me.

“Remove his gag and mask,” I said.

The deed was done, and I was met with the dark eyes and snotty nose of some fuck I recognized from long ago.

He’d been a regular in the Underground. I caught him staring at my mother more than once. I was certain he’d even tried to purchase time with her, but my father hadn’t approved the transaction because Jack didn’t have the kind of money it took to fuck the queen of the Underground.

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” I murmured. “We meet again.”

“D-Dante,” he whimpered. “Please.”

“Knees. Now,” I barked at him.

He sobbed softly and went to his knees for me. I paced in front of him, my monster free from the cell I kept it in.

“What did you do?” I demanded after a moment.

“I-nothing. I-”

“Do not fucking lie to me.” I turned abruptly and fisted his hair. “Speak only the truth to me.”

“I’m s-sorry. I can get the money I owe. I swear I can. I only need a few more days—”

“Who did you touch?”

“I-I—”

I pulled my knife out and twirled it between my fingers. A newer knife. I’d left my old one with Sin, but it made no matter. I’d killed with it before.

Jack cried out, snot dripping from his nose.

“Consider your next words carefully,” I said softly. “And make sure they’re truthful. I do not like liars.”

“I-I’ve watched you grow up, Dante. With your mother. Calista—”

I let my fist fly. It connected with a crack against Jack’s face, busting his nose and lip, the blood flowing freely.

“Never say her name,” I hissed at him.

“I-I’m sorry. P-please,” he blubbered.

“Who did you touch?”

“I-I, her name was Misty. I didn’t have the cash, but I can get it now—”

“Put your hands on the table,” I instructed.

“No,” he wailed, shaking, the smell of his piss wafting off him.

“Jack, don’t make this harder than it already is. Hands on the table. Now.”

With a soft sob, he put his hands on the table, each digit trembling with his fear.

I didn’t hesitate. I brought my knife down hard and fast and removed several fingers while he screamed, his blood gushing out. The men held him in place.

I took my time carving off the last digit. A pinky.

He vomited into the bloody mess before he passed out.

The men woke him for me, but he was barely conscious from the abrupt blood loss.

I was growing bored. Plus, he was filth, so I slit his throat in a lightning-fast movement. He slumped over in the mess we’d made together, his body limp.

“Not as clean as I prefer,” Father’s voice met my ears.

“Not as exciting as I prefer,” I answered back. I turned to leave, but my father’s voice had me stopping, my back to him.

“I have more work for you. Meet me in my office.”

I cast a look over my shoulder at him before leaving the room.

Fucking figured it couldn’t be a one-and-done thing.

I settled in the leather chair across from my father’s desk, watching as he poured us both a drink. He slid it over to me and settled in his seat.

I took the drink and sipped it, grateful he at least had a better taste in drink than he did in food.

“You always perform,” he commented before taking a drink. “I can always depend on you.”

“It is my job to serve,” I muttered, slamming back my drink and sliding my glass back across the table. “Especially when you’re using my girl and my friends against me. It helps we cut a deal.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “You’d have come to me anyway. You always have. We’re family. Your roots run deep beneath this blood empire.”

“You know I don’t like small talk, father. What is it that you require of me?”

He rapped his knuckles on his desk before refilling our glasses. I took my glass and sipped at it again, watching him closely.

After a moment, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a manilla folder. He then passed me a picture of a pretty young woman.

“What’s this?” I asked, picking the photo up and studying the girl. She was about my age. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Slim.

“That’s your sister,” he said, his hands folded on the desk in front of him.

I frowned and placed the photo back on the desk. “I don’t have a sister.”

“Well, half-sister. Her name was Macy.”

I ground my teeth and stared at him from over the photo of her. “Was?”

He nodded. “She’s dead. I suspect Matteo De Santis killed her. She was working for me, infiltrating the horsemen. She was a gem. Incredibly intelligent. She was better than I hoped because she got tight with the Sugar Daddy. The creator of sugar. She was supposed to get the recipe to me, but she was taken before she could. Originally, I just sent her in to get close to them to learn of their inner workings. Luck would have it the Sugar Daddy came into existence during her time there, which would have proved useful had she not died. I’ve heard she had a hand in its creation. Of course, she refused to tell me everything. It’s caused some issues for me.”

“Why didn’t I know I had a sister?” I demanded, forgoing the other information. “Why was that kept from me?”

He refilled our glasses even though I didn’t need another.

“Siblings. You have two.”

I ground my teeth. “Where is the second one?”

“I suspect comfortable.”

Great. A fucking riddle.

“I want to know what you know. No more lies,” I snapped at him, frustrated out of my mind. If I had family, I wanted to know about them.

“I expect nothing less. Before you were born, I helped couples have babies,” he explained. “Sometimes, I paired them with the men or women who could bring their dreams to reality. It was a lucrative business model but one I found rather boring. It’s why I discontinued it after I’d created one of my own. The fact that Macy came out female was a disappointment. I was fortunate your mother was woman enough to grant me my boy. A legitimate heir.” He stared fondly at me. “With you, I didn’t need to continue fucking worthless women in the hopes of obtaining my son. I could simply fuck to fuck.”

I held nothing but contempt in my heart for him, though, and didn’t give a rat’s ass how he felt. The man was a sick, perverted monster who probably never should have sired offspring. Given Macy seemed to be so easily swayed to do his bidding, and then the fact I was a fucking monster didn’t give me high hopes for my remaining sibling.

“You have adopted children. Stitches. Isabella. They aren’t actually my blood, are they?” I would love for Malachi to be my blood brother, but I wanted nothing to do with Bells. Fuck that dead bitch.

“I have sired three children. A female. A male. And you. There is no one else. This kingdom is yours. It’s safe. Only my eldest, legitimate son shall have it.”

I didn’t give two fucks about this kingdom of sin and sorrow. It could burn to the ground, and I wouldn’t piss on it to put it out. Yet, I couldn’t stop my next question.

“Then how is it you created another child? For what purpose if you already have me to take over?”

He smirked at me. “Sometimes I do things because I grow bored. That is all this is. Business during a dull time. Fucking to fuck. He means nothing. Just a little eager helper. I need more of them. Willing. Excited. Desperate for my approval.” He chuckled and drank again.

I sighed, not even wanting to know who my other sibling was. In this world, it was unlikely he’d last long anyway. Besides, he was created not through a marriage like I was. He had no real place in this world, therefore I rendered him a waste of time and space.

“How do you know Matteo killed Macy?” I asked, moving the conversation forward.

“I just have my suspicions. He thinks I killed his daughter, so he killed mine. An eye for an eye thing. You know how they can be.”

I shook my head, disgusted by all of it. This world was sick. Innocence was always lost. Not that I knew if anyone involved was innocent, but I couldn’t help but think of my specter and how sweet and innocent she was, and how she didn’t deserve any of the shit she’d been forced into.

“What do you need from me, Father?”

“I want you to be a good brother and watch over your remaining family when the time comes. Bring him home. I want you to be a mentor. Teach as I have taught you.”

“Home? Here?” I snorted at that. “Why? What would be the purpose of any of that?”

“Because he is blood, and blood is meant to be home.”

“Then why let him go in the first place? Why create another kid who isn’t a legitimate heir to the Underground then ask to have them mentored and brought here?”

“It was part of the deal I made.”

“While I enjoy games, Father, I assure you your guessing games aren’t one of them. Give me the information I need so that I can see to the task.”

“It is simply someone who came to me, desperate for his wife to have a child. I wanted another son. We had an agreement that we would give his wife a child and that I would come to collect someday. My terms were clear. I fuck his wife and put a baby inside her. He keeps the child safe.”

“And has he failed? Did you not vet properly, Father?”

He glared at me. “Watch yourself, boy.”

“I’m sorry, Father, but you’re asking me to mentor some lost brother of mine. All so he can come live in this hell? So he can be as crazy as we are? Help me see the logic in this.”

“Blood belongs at home,” he said, a muscle popping along his jaw. “You will do as you’re told, or you will pay with the blood of those you’ve grown attached to.”

“Did you force her? The mother?” I needed to know this. It was gnawing at me.

He inhaled deeply, his gaze fixed on me.

“She wanted it despite her screams. Her husband watched from the darkness of the alley as I took what I wanted. He was paid for his sacrifice.”

I said nothing, disgusted by the man in front of me.

“It is another task, for another time. I was only making you aware of it.”

“Of course, Father. Give me the information I need and a time in which I need to do it.”

“Perfect.” He offered me a wicked smile which did nothing but encourage me to want to kill him faster. It was sad, though, that he’d sunk his claws into another family’s lives. He had a way of tearing apart anything that might be able to thrive.

“Fine. Send word when you’re ready. I am at your service.”

“Excellent. Now. We need to discuss the next point of business.”

“And that is?” I raised my eyebrows at him, tiring of his company.

“The horsemen. You’ve heard of them?”

I nodded. Of course, I’d heard of them. They were up and coming. They were headed by Lorenzo De Luca, son of Anthony De Luca. They were taking over the city, piece by piece. Block by block. Rivals to the Kings and the De Santis syndicate. Rivals to the Ivanovs. It was quickly becoming a battleground.

And here we were. The Underground. Smack dab in the fucking center.

“Which side are you on, father?”

He smiled at me, knowing exactly what I meant, and sat back in his seat. “Mine, of course. Let them feud. In their violence, we shall rise. Let them kill one another off. Let us plant the seeds. We take over and claim this city as ours.”

I scrubbed my hand down my face. “And what of Sirena?”

“What of her? If you want her, you’ll do what you’re told. I will let you keep her. I’ll let you keep all of them. Malachi, Asher. Sinclair. Anything you want will be yours. Just do my bidding and do it well.”

“For how long?” I whispered.

“Forever, of course.” He surveyed me for a moment when I didn’t answer. “I want their sugar recipe. With Macy’s passing, I have no in. So I need one. They have a girl.” He handed me a photograph of a gorgeous redhead with vibrant green eyes and then several more photos of who I assumed were the horsemen.

“Lorenzo De Luca is training to be head of the syndicate. His father, Anthony, has gone into hiding, leaving his only child to handle business. He’s ruthless, but young. He will no doubt make a few mistakes.”

I stared at the photo of the dark-haired man in the picture. He looked every bit the future head of a mob syndicate.

Father went through and showed me a blond named Cole, Lorenzo’s right-hand man, and then a photo of someone I recognized from watching football. The quarterback for Mayfair, Fox Evans.

Surprising, but then again, this world was twisted, so why the hell not?

“And this is him. The Sugar Daddy.” Father pushed a photo of a guy with dark hair and green eyes at me. The guy looked sad as hell. I studied the photo, taking in the exhaustion in his features. The haunted look in his eyes. This was a man who battled demons.

None of the people in the photos were much older than me. In fact, I knew Fox Evans was nearing his twentieth birthday because I’d heard it on some spot they did on him for TV. He was only months older than me.

“His name is Ethan Masters,” Father continued, smiling. “Luck would have it, I have a photo of him as a boy, as well.” He showed me another picture of the guy, but this time, he couldn’t have been more than nine years old. Same haunted expression graced his face. The bruises on his arms were visible, but that wasn’t what drew me to look closer.

“This was taken here,” I said, looking up from the photo and to my father.

He gave me a sinister smile. “He was one of my very favorites.”

My stomach twisted at his words.

“A sweet boy. Trusting. Loved fire trucks. Wanted to be a firefighter someday. Do you remember what you wanted to be when you were young, Dante?”

I averted my gaze from him and stared down at the picture of the sad boy in front of me again.

“I wanted to be free,” I whispered.

“And to be free, you’ll get me the Sugar Daddy. To have the family you seem so desperate for, you’ll do what it takes to ensure I get what I want. The girl is the way in. I want Rosalie Bishop.”

I glanced to her photo again. She was so vibrant. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this was the type of woman who brought sunlight into a room with her. That she filled the tormented soul of Ethan Masters with the motivation to keep fucking going.

He and the horsemen would do anything to get her back. Even give up the recipe that was the key to their new kingdom.

“So what say you, Dante? Will you be everything I need you to be? Will you conquer worlds with me?”

I closed my eyes for a moment, gathering myself. Could I do all this shit for the rest of my life? I didn’t mind taking life. I felt nothing when I did it. But was it what I wanted? To rule this hell someday?

The bigger question was, how far was I willing to go to protect the ones I loved?

A vision of my mother flashed in my mind. Her long blonde hair. Her sweet smile. The way her green eyes sparkled when she was happy. The way it felt to be hugged by her. To be loved by her.

“You know the rules.” He pulled a knife from his drawer and slid it toward me before taking out a piece of paper, the terms of the arrangement clearly spelled out for me.

I read over it, everything in order that stated I’d get Sirena for good and my guys would be safe as long as I fulfilled my duties. It was something to buy us some time until I came back and was able to kill his ass.

Reaching out, I picked up the knife and twirled it between my fingers before pushing the blade against my other palm and making an X on it. The blood ran red, and I pressed my hand to the sheet of paper, sealing a deal with the fucking devil.

Everything came down to what I wanted. What I needed.

I missed being loved.

Now I had that with Sirena.

I wasn’t about to let it go.

It didn’t matter how many empires I had to conquer. Kings. Horsemen.

I’d do it. Without question, to keep the ones I loved safe, I’d do it.

“Perfect.” He rose to his feet. “Let’s go for a ride, shall we?”