The Duke Of Sin Novels & Stories

Scowling, the Duke didn't like this situation, and he absolutely hates the way Prince Julian looks down on him. Graciously, Prince Julian steps on his face as he hits the Duke's cheek with his shoe heel. "Argh!" Grunting, Duke William perceives the pain. "This is what you deserve for hurting Lady Genesis, for damaging the Kingdom's and nobles' reputation, and for tricking us with your roller coaster ploys. We've already had enough of them, Duke Martin. So, it's time for you to face the consequences with a strong spirit because, for me, I don't want you to die so easily." Prince Julian murmurs in the air in a provoking tone while sending pressure on the Duke's body.

I whispered. ​"No," the Duke said, a dark smile spreading across his lips. He reached into the air, and a shard of darkness solidified in his hand—a jagged blade of pure shadow. "Silas stays in his tower. These are his pets. And I am very, very hungry." ​He didn't wait for them to land. He stepped out of the broken window, falling into the black void of the night. ​I ran to the edge, watching as he descended. He didn't hit the ground; he hit the first helicopter like a meteor of shadow. The metal groaned and buckled as the Duke tore through the rotor housing with his bare hands.

If he was going to kill me, I would strike first. I marched into his master suite. The room was dark. He was asleep, his massive frame sprawled across the bed. The tattoos on his right arm seemed to swim in the shadows, ink turned to scales. He looked older than Damien, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties, but there was a raw, timeless power in his face that made age irrelevant.

It was a lot to take in, but nothing compared to the man coming down the stairs. Duke Cater didn't walk; he glided. He wore a bright Hawaiian shirt that was completely unbuttoned, showing off a wiry chest covered in ink. Tattoos of snakes twisted across his pale skin. His long black hair bounced against his shoulders with every step. He had so many silver rings on his fingers that I wondered how he could even lift his hands. He moved with a flair that reminded me of a professional dancer. “Jeremiah, darling!” Duke shouted. He threw his hands up, making the thick silver chains around his neck clatter. He had a heavy accent that sounded like it belonged in a palace in Europe. “And this must be

But she knew how to be seen. Heads turned. A man spilled his drink. A woman with wine-dark lips raised her glass in silent recognition. There were no altar calls here, but Eden felt more honest in this darkness than she ever had in the light. She slid onto a barstool like sin incarnate. Crossed her legs slow. Ordered whiskey—neat. The bartender didn’t ask her name. He just nodded and poured. Good. She raised the glass to her lips and let it burn the back of her throat like a secret she no longer cared to keep.

The mix of alcohol and fuel made the night feel like hell. Marco watched without showing any emotion. His men stayed quiet behind him. A black SUV rolled up. Two Iron Fang members got out, their patches glowing in the firelight. Their leader, Dave, stepped forward, his face partly hidden by his jacket. He looked at the burning bar, then at Delgado. “You really think this is the way to start an alliance?” Delgado smiled, sharp as glass. “No. This is how you start a war.” Dave chuckled low. “Then I hope you know who you are fighting.”

Now, he wanted to. “Don’t think too much, Sarang.” His lips curved into a slow, sinister smile. “Let’s make a deal.” He leaned in, his breath ghosting over my skin as he murmured his next words. “You’ll give birth to my child.” “I... I’m not doing anything like that. I won’t,” I stammered, shaking my head as my voice trembled. He stood in front of me, smirking cruelly, unaffected by the panic in my eyes.

Duke said and took out a pistol from his pocket. Seeing the pistol in Duke's hand, Liam wet his pants in fear and panic. Duke smiled devilishly at the sight of his condition and said, "Don't worry. I didn't take out this pistol for you. I won't give you such an easy death. You don't deserve an easy death. The consequences of your sin will be very terrible and you will die a terrible death." Duke put the pistol on his shoulder. Before Mark and the security guards could understand anything, Duke shot himself.

This was too easy. My phone pinged. “Do you have any interest in getting your animal kink on?” Duke texted. He had an evil expression on his face and a look in his eyes that said this was a ride I wanted to take. “You’re in my world now, baby, and no one plays better than I do.”

they replied in unison, both turning to look at me at once. “Who?“ I inquired, although I suspected the answer. “The Lord of the sins,” they replied with a look of reverence and dread in their eyes. My heart trembled at their response, and I opened my mouth in awe. The Lord of the sins? I had expected them to call him “The Lord” or “Lord Draven”. I took that to heart, asking in a defensive tone and stance. “Why did you call him that?“ Their eyes darted as if they were terrified. “Because that's what he is. People say his very existence is a sin, and that was affirmed when he slaughtered hundreds of soldiers and let us live.“