Chapter Twenty-Four
Wyck
It’s been days of cleanup. Blood-soaked decisions. Deals sealed in silence. So yeah, tonight? Tonight’s not just a party.
It’s a reckoning.
Every Devil dressed in black. Masks sharpened like the blades hidden beneath our suits. The kind of night where secrets bleed under strobe lights and revenge slips past champagne lips.
I spent the day prepping for this, hands dirty, mind dirtier. Now I’m suited up, blades tucked, phone lit, pulse steady. Ready to pull the trigger on anything that so much as blinks wrong.
I step into the storm of music and sweat, the scent of sin coating the air like smoke. The party’s already crawling with power-hungry bodies, all aching for a taste of something they’ll never forget, or survive.
And then I feel it.
Athens.
Her scent cuts through the chaos like static. Cinnamon and danger. She glides up beside me, and just like that, I’m undone. That dress was made to be ripped off. Her skin, bitten. Her throat, marked.
“Can I sit this one out?” she pouts, voice laced with bratty temptation. “I’ll hang with Fred. Maybe even invite Ryan. We’ll stay close.”
I smirk. “That actually sounds cute. But there’s a catch.”
She groans like I just sentenced her to death.
“On second thought, the party sounds funner.”
Too late.
“You skipped out, Little Fox. That means Daddy gets to assign your punishment.”
She scowls, that pout deepening, and I swear I feel my cock twitch.
“Fine. What is it?”
“I want you to dig.” My voice drops. “Into your past. You know what that means.”
Her face darkens instantly. “Ugh, I don’t want to read those journals. I’m so fucking sick of the past, Wyck. I just want a night with the girls. I want fun.”
“And I want obedience.”
Gone is the pout. What replaces it is fury, lightning behind her eyes. She wants to push me. And most nights, I’d let her. I’d welcome the challenge.
But not tonight.
“You wanna play brat?” I growl, voice low and final. “Then I’ll fuck the attitude out of you. Now. Move.”
She follows, of course she does. She always does.
I drag her into a shadowed corner near the edge of the ballroom, where the music's drowned by our need. A side table. A single chair. Perfect.
I shove her against the wall. “Lift your dress. Show me what’s mine.”
She hesitates, but only for a second. Her hands tremble as she peels the fabric up, revealing that soft, soaked cunt that drives me to madness. I push past her, sit, unzip, and let my cock breathe.
“Get on,” I command, voice rough. “Slow.”
She climbs onto me like a good little sinner, bracing herself on my thighs. The second her heat sinks over me, a broken sound slips from my mouth. Fuck. She’s always so warm. So wet. So fucking perfect.
She smirks. That same little bratty smile like she’s got the upper hand.
“I’m gonna wipe that smug look off your face.” I thrust upward hard enough to make her gasp, the tip slamming into her sweet spot.
“Wyck.” she moans, voice cracking.
“No,” I growl. “Scream it.”
My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back until her throat’s exposed like an offering. “You don’t get a necklace tonight,” I whisper darkly. “You get a collar made of bruises.”
She rides me harder. Hips slamming. Her tits bouncing beneath that barely-there fabric until I yank it down and take one into my mouth, teeth grazing her peak. She cries out. Good. Louder. Let them all hear what belongs to me.
“Wyck, please.”
“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” I hiss, my thrusts unrelenting. “Don’t test me. I’ll put bullets through bloodlines.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” she pants. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Then come. Right here, right now. Make a mess on your Devil’s cock.”
She shatters, screaming my name loud enough to rattle bones. I follow, exploding inside her with a curse and a groan that sounds more like a prayer.
When the storm settles, I’m still inside her, arms tight around her waist, breath ragged.
“I love you, Athens,” I rasp, voice raw. “I always have.”
She looks down at me, pupils blown, lips trembling. “I love you too. Forever and always.”
She slides off me with a soft whimper, legs barely holding her up. Her body’s marked. Claimed. Just the way I like it.
“That was... incredible,” she breathes. “I didn’t know chair sex was my new religion.”
I tuck myself back into my slacks, voice still gravel. “You’ve got work to do. We both do.”
“I know, I know.” She sighs. “But can I at least call Fred and Ryan for a girls’ night while I read those stupid journals?”
“It’s hot when you obey,” I smirk. “Obey again tonight and I’ll bend you over every chair in this fucking mansion.”
She giggles and pulls out her phone, FaceTiming the girls. I half-listen while adjusting my cuffs and watching every twitch of her post-orgasm glow.
“Y’all wanna hang out while I drown in these journals?” she asks. “Wyck’s orders.”
“Say less,” Ryan grins before hanging up. Fred just shrugs. “Be there soon.”
“You done stalling?” I ask when she puts her phone away.
“Yes, My Devil.” She mocks.
I grab her chin and force her to meet my eyes. “Careful, Little Fox. I might just make you earn that title.”
Her breath catches. She loves this game, loves the edge she dances on.
“Go on. Maeve’s waiting in the main house.”
“What about Tiger?”
“He’ll be there. Maybe even his mate and cubs.”
Her jaw drops. “He has a family?”
“We each raised one of his offspring. Safer that way. No breeders getting greedy.”
“I’m an aunt?” she gasps.
“You’re whatever the fuck I tell you to be.”
She beams like I just told her she’s queen of the underworld.
“I want to meet them all.”
“Later,” I say, fixing my jacket. “You’ve got a date with your demons first.”
She turns to leave, and I watch her go, hips swaying like a fucking weapon.
As she reaches the stairs, Zeke appears and offers his arm. Good. She’ll be safe.
I turn as my brothers flank me, each one masked, silent, charged.
“Devils of Cliffside,” I murmur, eyes locked on the chaos ahead, “you ready to remind the world who the fuck we are?”
“Let’s burn it down,” Karter grins.
I nod. “Put your masks on.”
And just like that, the night begins.
“What about Tiger? Will he be there?”
A slow grin curls at the corner of my mouth. “Absolutely. He might even let you meet the wife and kids, if he doesn’t decide to eat your hand first.”
She blinks like I just told her the Devil had a family. Cute.
I lean back, adjusting my slacks, cock still half-hard from the wreckage she made of me. “What?” I say when she stares at me wide-eyed. “Tiger’s not just some beast we keep caged for fun. He’s blood. Family. And like all family, he’s got secrets.”
Her voice is breathless. “He has a wife?”
I nod. “And children.”
Her gasp is a little too sweet for the world she’s in. “He has kids ?”
“Each of us took one,” I say, voice flat now. “We didn’t trust them in the hands of breeders who’d use their blood for coin or clout. So we split them up. Raised them like our own. Made sure no one would ever be able to claim them… or hurt them.”
Her fingers flutter to her chest. “Oh my god. That means I’m... an Auntie?”
I arch a brow. “Sure. Let’s go with that.” If calling her ‘Auntie’ makes her feel included in this blackened brotherhood, then fine. I’ll keep feeding her pieces of the truth, just enough to keep her tethered.
“I have to meet them. All of them. I want to know everything.”
“Easy, Little Fox,” I murmur, rising from the chair and towering over her. “You’ve got your own monsters to dance with tonight. You can play meet-the-freaky-family after you’ve done your fucking homework.”
She pouts again, and I almost drag her back down to ride my thigh just to erase that spoiled look from her face.
Instead, I give her the warning she wants to ignore.
“Make the call. Wait for them at the main house. Maeve’s already prepping your space.”
“Yes, Father,” she teases, lips twitching with defiance.
My jaw ticks. “That’s Yes, My Devil, to you.”
The smirk fades. Replaced with something darker. Something hotter.
“I dare you, Athens,” I whisper, gripping her jaw. “Say something bratty. Give me a reason to throw you over the table and mark you up again.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I wasn’t gonna do anything.”
“Mm-hm.”
She scrambles to grab her phone and FaceTime the girls. “Y’all wanna come over for a girls’ night in or whatever? I promised Wyck I’d read more of these cursed journals, and I don’t wanna do it alone. I might stab myself with a highlighter.”
“Say less,” Ryan says before the call even finishes. Fred just shrugs like she’s already halfway to the door.
“Wha-where did she go?” Athens looks around like Fred vanished into thin air.
“She’s probably doing the one thing you struggle with, listening.” I grin. “And here I was, thinking you deserved a reward for being such a good little toy.”
“I told you, I’m not a good girl,” she says, head tilting in challenge.
“No,” I murmur, grabbing her face again. “You’re not.”
My voice drops to that velvet-gloved threat I know makes her clench. “You’re a filthy, obedient, little fucking slut.”
Her breath hitches.
Then I kiss her hard, rough, possessive, claiming every breath she tries to keep for herself.
“Oh my god, ew! ” Fred’s voice bursts through the phone like a slap. “I do not want to see Wyck’s tongue down your throat. I will never recover from this. I’m hanging up now. Byyeeeeeee.”
The call ends and Athens stares at the phone like she forgot she’d even called.
“What was I saying?” she asks, lips swollen, dazed from the kiss.
“You were saying you’re leaving before I drag you upstairs and make you regret mouthing off.”
She stumbles a little as she heads toward the door. “See you later.”
“Not if I see you first.”
I watch her disappear down the hall, bare legs flashing beneath her dress. Before she even hits the stairs, Zeke steps out of the shadows like the fucking phantom he is and offers her his arm. She takes it, because of course she does.
My attention shifts as the air around me sharpens.
They’re here.
My brothers, Karter, Wells, Dash, and Onyx, flank me like wolves scenting blood.
“Devils of Cliffside,” I say, pulling my mask into place, “you ready to burn it all down?”
“Fucking right we are,” Karter snarls.
I glance at the custom masks in their hands, all obsidian and bone, all teeth and terror.
“Good. Put them on.”
Because tonight?
Tonight we remind this world what it means to dance with a Devil.
I step into the center of the raised platform, the closest thing to a stage we’d allow in this kind of hell. The music cuts. The writhing crowd stills. And for the first time all night, silence reigns.
Perfect.
Their masked faces tilt toward me like starving wolves waiting for the kill. I raise my glass, voice low and commanding. “Glad you all showed up tonight. I figured if we were gonna celebrate the Devils of Cliffside, we’d do it right. Drinks. Blood. And maybe a few body bags, yeah?”
A few cheers ripple out, ragged and slurred. Most are too drunk, too high, or too stupid to realize how real this shit’s about to get.
“Some of you came for the promise on the flyer,” I continue. “Good. Because we don’t break promises. We break people. ” My words hit hard. A roar erupts like we just triggered a blood ritual.
“Let’s have some fucking fun first!” I shout, and they howl like the feral creatures we’ve raised them to be.
Karter slides up beside me, smirking like he’s already seen the carnage. “When it’s time for the real festivities… trust me. You’ll know.”
He disappears into the crowd like smoke, his voice lingering in the air.
I tilt my head. “Until then, drink up. Dance. And if you haven’t already, try the herbal refreshments. Our latest blend makes your heartbeat feel like a war drum.”
Then I walk off. No mic drop. Just purpose.
Onyx finds me near the back bar, glass in hand, eyes tracking the chaos like a sniper. “That went well,” he says, his tone dry and deadly.
“It did,” I answer. “But I plan to up the stakes. Give them something they’ll never forget.”
He nods. “I’m in. Say the word.”
He drifts away, and Gage takes his place, silent, observant, always where I need him. I don’t have to explain anything. I just nod toward the main house. “Let’s go make sure our guests of honor are… prepped.”
We descend into the basement.
Our personal hell.
We call it a basement, but it’s a fucking altar built for pain. A place where secrets bleed and the truth screams. Lately, it’s been getting more use than the main house. Which, frankly, says a lot.
After Dash and Tucker brought us word about Chad and Kevin running their mouths, making plans, selling poison near our turf, it was clear. We don’t talk. We do.
They slipped. We struck. Simple math.
That’s the only lesson our fathers ever gave us worth keeping: Take what you want. Break what gets in the way.
The moment we hit the bottom step, I hear them, muffled begging, breathless sobs, promises too late to matter.
They’re pathetic now. Offers of loyalty. Bargains for mercy.
If they wanted to be on our side, they should’ve chosen it before they ended up in chains.
I kick open the chamber door and step inside, letting the heavy silence follow me.
They freeze. Wide eyes. Cracked lips. The blood’s already started to crust in places they can’t see. Good.
I glance at each one like I’m choosing cuts of meat. “Gentlemen,” I say with a razorblade smile, “if you’d all shut the fuck up, we could get this show started.”
Silence.
But their eyes, they scream. They curse me with everything they have left. I welcome it.
“If you don’t know why you’re here,” I murmur, walking past them like a priest reading last rites, “don’t worry. You’ll learn soon enough.”
I turn and walk away before my fingers twitch for a blade.
Because the best part hasn’t come yet.
Back at the party, the music hits harder. Dirtier. Like the floor itself is pulsing with menace. I cut through the crowd until I spot Karter, leaning against a bar cart like he owns the place, because he does.
“You get the ghostface masks handed out?”
He grins, lazy and lethal. “Does a Devil always get what he wants?”
“Damn right,” I growl. “Tell the boys to get the rats ready.”
He lifts his glass. “Time to turn this party into a fucking purge.”
Tonight… we don’t just celebrate.
We make them remember .
We burn our mark into the flesh of this city.
We baptize them in blood.
The Devils of Cliffside are no longer in the shadows.
We are the shadows.