All Chapters of A Sinful Devotion: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Nicholas Rhodes The smell of gunpowder always lingers longer than the sound of bullets. It clings to the air like guilt. I pushed through the smoke-filled warehouse, boots grinding on broken glass. The echo of distant sirens bled through the night, but I barely heard them. My mind replayed every second of the ambush—every scream, every wrong move, every name I’d lost. It was supposed to be routine. A simple exchange at Pier 9. Five crates, four men, no witnesses. But someone had fed the Rossis our schedule down to the minute. They’d been waiting for us, hiding behind the freight containers like vultures. My men had fought hard. Too hard. None of it mattered now. Marco stumbled toward me, his shirt dark with blood that wasn’t his. “They knew everything, Nick,” he rasped. “Even the backup route. Someone sold us out.” The words sank in like a knife under the ribs. “Who had the route list?” “Only a handful. You. Me. Vega.” Rafael Vega. The name landed heavier than the smoke in m

NicholasThe first time I saw Rafael Vega he wasn’t a threat. He was a shadow waiting to be used.A name in a file, a pair of steady eyes in a room full of trembling ones.I remember the warehouse light cutting through dust, the smell of oil and rust clinging to the air. He’d been brought in after a job gone sideways—half the crew scattered, one man missing, yet Rafe stood untouched. Calm. Too calm.I asked him his name.He said, Rafael Vega, sir.No arrogance. No fear. Just that strange steadiness that made people listen before they meant to.He was younger then—sharp-boned, lean, quiet. I should’ve dismissed him as another survivor looking for a place to hide, but something in me hesitated.The same hesitation that would later destroy us both.He learned fast. Loyal to a fault, or so I believed. I let him too close—closer than I ever had with anyone under my command. In meetings, he’d stand behind my chair, silent and watchful, eyes tracking every threat before I did. We were rhythm

Nicholas’s POVThe night was too quiet.Even the city seemed to know that something dangerous was about to happen.I sat in the dark, a glass of whiskey untouched in my hand, the amber liquid catching the low light of the chandelier. The house had fallen into silence hours ago—my men stationed around the perimeter, the hallways empty, the clock ticking too loud in the still air.But inside my chest, everything was chaos.Six days.Six days since I dragged Rafael Vega back from the filth he’d been rotting in. Six days since I chained him in that room and told myself it was justice.And yet… I hadn’t killed him.Every time I walked into that room, I told myself this would be it.That I’d put a bullet through his skull, wipe away the ghost of him that’s haunted me for years.But I never did.He’d look at me with those same eyes—dark, defiant, knowing—and I’d freeze. Like a man staring into his own reflection.I couldn’t explain it. Maybe I didn’t want to.The sound of chains clinking bro

The storm has passed, but the house still feels soaked in it.It’s the kind of silence that doesn’t soothe — it crawls.It reminds you of everything that should’ve been said and wasn’t.I wake before dawn, the clock reading 4:17. The sheets beside me are cold.I don’t remember falling asleep. Only the weight of Rafe’s last words echoing in my head — You can cage a body, not a ghost.He’s gone.Again.My first instinct is fury. The second — fear. Not for myself, but for what might happen if Dominic finds him before I do.But beneath all that, there’s something else. Something uglier.A quiet relief that I don’t have to look at him this morning. That I don’t have to see the bruise I put there.I drag a hand over my face and exhale. The cigarette smoke from last night still clings to my shirt, the faint burn of it lodged in my throat.For the first time in years, I feel tired in a way no sleep can fix.--The mansion is awake by six. My men move through the halls like ghosts, whispering

(Nicholas’s POV )I hadn’t meant to kiss him.Hell, I hadn’t meant to touch him again after that night six months ago when he vanished into the chaos of gunfire and betrayal.But now, every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel the ghost of his mouth against mine — the taste of whiskey, blood, and defiance tangled in a kiss that should never have happened.It wasn’t forgiveness.It was the start of something far worse.The next morning, I woke before dawn. The rain had stopped, leaving behind that sharp smell of cold steel and asphalt that always reminded me of death.I showered in silence, buttoned my shirt, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face looked calm. Composed. But the man staring back at me was lying.I’d spent my life mastering control. My father used to say, “A Rhodes doesn’t bleed where anyone can see it.”But ever since Rafe came back, I’d been bleeding everywhere — quietly, internally, invisibly.By the time I reached my office, the house had begun to st