Fractured Hearts (Hades Duet #1)

Chapter 1

BLAIZE

The first time I killed a man I was seventeen, and he was my mother’s boyfriend.

My father was a conniving asshole who craved power, and the problem was, I turned out just like him.

But I had an advantage—I was smarter than him.

I quickly learned that power was a luxury the weak couldn’t afford to own.

Power belonged to the people who were willing to take it.

I was the President of Hell’s Reapers, had the best strip club in Westhaven—filled with the most beautiful and desired women, and held ownership of every port on the West Coast. Being my ally was better than being my enemy, and enemies never lasted long.

Henry Thatcher was one of the half-witted few who thought they could overrule me and take the power I rightfully deserved.

He was stuck in the old ways when Elijah used to rule the streets of Westhaven.

Elijah West was a greedy bastard who used the pain of others to fuel his operations.

My father might’ve been a shady prick, but even he didn’t entertain forced prostitution.

Elijah liked invoking fear into people, and that was how he stayed at the top.

He didn’t expect me to show up here out of the blue and burn his shit to the ground.

Henry wormed his way into my ranks, feigned loyalty, then betrayed me.

Betrayal was the quickest way to meet a bullet and a pine box.

Compassion and mercy weren’t in my vocabulary, especially when the people I cared about got hurt.

Henry royally fucked up by hurting one of the girls who worked for me, and now, he would join his predecessor in death.

It was the only reason I was allowing Henry’s wife to currently ride my face like a needy whore she was.

Having a husband like Henry, I knew she was deprived of the bone-tingling pleasure she desired.

I needed her in order to get to him, and didn’t some old proverb say the best way to get to your enemy was to get close to them?

His wife coming on my face might not be exactly what they meant, but I was using it as the key to my success.

His little wife helped him in his sins, making her just as guilty in my eyes.

She didn’t realize this hate fuck was her last one.

Jilian married a shitty man who enjoyed preying on the innocent, but she wasn’t much better herself.

She did nothing while Henry hurt his victims. How a woman could be with a man who willingly harmed another woman, I’d never understand.

Everyone has heard what happens to someone that touches what’s mine, but, by the end of tonight, they’d all experience it personally.

Julian’s thighs quivered as I continued to devour her.

Her hands pressed against my forehead as she tried to pull away from my face to get a momentary reprieve from my mouth, but I had a death grip around her thighs.

She moaned loudly, trembling with desire as I pulled yet another orgasm from her.

It was the least I could do for her, because she would die with her husband tonight.

Right now, I was playing with my prey, winding her up so she could shatter when that bastard she married came home.

“Fuck.” Her hips rolled against my mouth. “Oh, Blaize.” Her cunt convulsed against me, and she screamed in pleasure.

I heard the door of their overpriced mansion open, and heavy footsteps stomped upstairs. Henry began cursing at me for everything I was worth before even knowing who was fucking his wife.

Perfect timing.

I finally allowed Julian to collapse off my face.

Her body still trembling from the countless orgasms I gave her now combined with the fear of her husband’s wrath.

Henry is a short, stocky man with a generous beer gut and a receding hairline with strands of salt and pepper clinging to the sides.

His dry, pale skin is etched with years worth of worry lines and wrinkles.

I pulled myself up, reaching for my cigarettes on the nightstand.

I light one and let the smoke fill my lungs before Henry stumbles into the room, looking harried.

His fat face is blotchy and red as he catches his breath, trying to play it off.

No wonder Julian has been unsatisfied with the entirety of their marriage.

“Get away from her, you motherfu—”

“Hello, Henry,” I taunted as I flicked ash on Julian’s side of the bed.

He stopped, gasping as he took in the sight of his naked wife next to me. “B-Blaize, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m fucking your wife.”

“I—”

I cut him off. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Henry?”

“N-no. N-no. Of course n-not,” he stutters pitifully.

I stood up, tossing my half-smoked cigarette on the floor as I walked toward him. “You men think because I have a pussy, I’ll just cower at your feet.”

I spent years making a name for myself in this town.

At first, it was a new start for me, my wife, and our newborn daughter.

Except, I never predicted having an enemy in Elijah West. He didn’t like a woman who dared to be in charge.

He tried to intimidate me and my family, however, Elijah failed to realize that I’d never cower to a man.

My father always craved power, and while he achieved plenty in his days, he was never smart in his ranks.

That man trusted too easily, and that was his ultimate downfall.

His failures helped shape me into the woman I’d become.

I spent years watching him lie, cheat, and kill to get everything he ever wanted.

No better way to learn the tricks of trade and money laundering than from a professional.

It didn’t start out like that, though.

I was normal—as normal as a teenager could be with a criminal father and whore mother.

I didn’t intend to turn out like my father, and had tried to avoid the dark depravity of the criminal underworld, but life didn’t have the same idea.

I needed something more—power—and the only way to get that power was to take it.

When I left my father, I found a job bartending in one of the sketchier parts of town, but I didn’t give up and followed the money.

At least my gold-digging mother taught me that lesson.

That trail led me straight into the clutches of some very dangerous and powerful men.

It didn’t take long to earn their trust—then bring them down.

When I told my father I wanted to join the family business, he told me to prove my loyalty.

That wasn’t hard to do when I knew what times my mother met up to fuck Reggie, her current boyfriend.

After I killed him, and brought his severed hand to my father, he readily allowed me to join his ranks.

That was the first moment I began to grow into my new self.

I wasn’t a good person. I had lied, stolen, and killed to get to where I was now.

My hands were stained crimson, and I had two demons on my shoulders.

No angels could save me now. I was dancing with the devil, and I wouldn’t pretend to be a saint.

One day, I’d take my rightful place on Hell’s throne.

“You really disappoint me, Henry.”

“Listen, I can ex—”

I grabbed him by the balls, digging my short, manicured nails into his small penis.

He bellowed as tears filled his dark eyes.

“No, you listen. You seem to have forgotten who the fuck I am. Men cower at the mention of my name. They know what I do to traitorous bastards like you.” I reached down the leg of my slacks and pulled out my trusty dagger.

“You should have behaved, Henry,” I tutted.

Julian screamed bloody murder, and I couldn’t help the smile forming on my lips. “She screamed like that for me. Has she ever done that for you?” Only a pained gasp escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, she’ll be joining you in hell.”

I grabbed the back of Henry’s head, forcing his head back and chin up.

I rested my blade on the edge of his throat, just under his left ear, and applied enough pressure to draw the smallest amount of blood, but not sever anything…

yet. While I allowed the blade to sit there for a moment, he visibly relaxed, presumably thinking I would let him go.

Instead, I dug the blade deeper into his throat, severing his jugular first, and I watched with a smile on my face as dark, venous blood sprayed over me.

He gurgled as I shredded his windpipe before finally hitting his carotid artery.

Henry’s body collapsed to the floor, his eyes filled with despair as he gasped, choking on his own blood and clawing at his throat.

I loved the chase, knowing I was going to be the last thing they saw—a woman ending their pathetic excuse of a life.

The fight made it harder, but fuck, was it exhilarating.

They foolishly believed they could get away from me, but I was always quicker.

Unfortunately, cowardly men like Henry never fought, and that did take the thrill away, but this, more than anything, was to send a message.

Julian was screaming at the top of her lungs as she watched the life leave her husband’s eyes.

If she was smart, she would’ve run instead of standing there naked and quivering in fear.

Of course, it would’ve been less messy to push her down the staircase, her neck snapping.

Except, my dagger has been itching for a kill, and it had been far too long since she could enjoy one too.

I turned, looking at her now pale face. Her eyes were darting across the room before locking with mine. The guilt and fear radiated off her like a furnace. “P-please, don’t kill me,” she sobbed.

I smiled, walking closer to her. My hand found her throat and gripped tightly until she let out a pained gasp.

I pushed her against the wall and let my nails dig into her skin.

She clawed at me for freedom, her eyes pleading with mine.

“Ten minutes ago, you were coming on my hand while I choked you. What changed, hm?”

I plunged my dagger into her chest, twisting the blade. With this placement, she’d get a pneumothorax or maybe a hemothorax. She wouldn’t die from either of those. No, the fire would be the one to take her last breath.

A weak sob escaped from her swollen lips as I plucked the knife from her body and let her collapse once more, this time to the floor.

She gasped for air, her chest hardly rising.

Maybe she’d die before the fire, I mused.

Hovering over her body, her big, sad eyes still pleading as she tried to find the words to speak to me.

“No hard feelings—but maybe you shouldn’t marry scum or help them abuse women.

” I cleaned my dagger on the edge of their bed before sticking it back in my holster.

If I were a nice person, I’d allow her to work off her debts to pay for her sins.

Alas, Julian knew what she had been doing all along and death was the only payment I would take for the suffering of so many women.

“Vocês dois precisam queimar no inferno.” Both of you can burn in hell.

I walked to the kitchen where they had their gas-powered stove and turned on every burner, including the oven as I left it slightly ajar.

The scent of fumes were already dancing in the air.

I walked out of the house, flicking open my lighter and throwing it into the living room.

I continued down the driveway, and then I finally heard it—the entire house lighting up like the Fourth of July.

This would serve as a reminder to everyone: my allies, enemies, and all of the shadows I’ve yet to meet—not to fuck with me, Hades, or Hell’s Reapers.