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It’s our headquarters.
It only made sense. The more powerful the Sinners Syndicate became, the more space we needed. What started as a small bar turned into a half-a-block-wide structure as we bought more and more property, building onto it. The second floor became the spot dedicated to the working girls, the back rooms were where the gamblers went to spend their dough, and the office space next store was where the Sinners met.
It’s not always about business. There’s a gaming area inside, complete with billiards table, dartboards, and three vintage arcade games. We have a separate bar for the syndicate, an on-site cook, and a swimming pool.
But, on the rare occasion that I call a syndicate meet instead of one-on-ones, we have a conference room that rivals anything in corporate America.
The conference room has a long ass table, at least twenty seats, the most boring carpet in the world, and no windows. I hate the fucking place. I only go in there when I need to, when I have to remind the gang that I’m in charge, or when I’m meeting with the mayor of Springfield and his cronies. Dumb prick insists on “privacy”, as though I don’t have eyes on him and his twinks at all times, or know that he spends as much time schmoozing with Damien as he does me and my men.
Today, I have my men all lined up at the wall. The seats are stacked together, shoved to the far side of the room, leaving only the empty table in the middle.
Well, it’s empty for now, but it won’t be much longer…
Ava is standing next to me. Under the scrutiny of the Sinners, she tried to duck behind me, but I want to show off my gorgeous bride. She has her light brown hair styled in soft curls today, her green eyes bright, her creamy skin so damn touchable… and I can’t wait until I can. Taking her hand, I tug her into my side, letting her know she has my protection while also keeping her front and center in front of the men.
I make a noise in the back of my throat. Each one stops glancing on Ava, focusing on me entirely.
Good.
“Evening, fellas. I’m gonna make this quick because I’m wasting precious time with my new bride”—the first murmurs erupt, before Royce waves a hand gesturing for them to shut the hell up—“and I’d rather be with her than looking at your ugly mugs. But I figured it was time to introduce you to her, so I gathered you here for a quick announcement and an illustration. First, the announcement.” I still have Ava’s hand clasped in mine. Lifting it high, making sure they can see the dark lines of my name on her all-important ring finger, I say, “This is Ava Crewes. For those who don’t know, she is my wife. We eloped last month, and now that I’ve had her to myself for a while, I thought it was time to introduce her to the syndicate.”
The men who have met her previously all nod their acknowledgement. Ava squeezes my fingers, obviously aware of the confusion, interest, and distrust coming from those who are just now hearing about her.
That’s okay. I set up this meet to prove to her—the syndicate, too, but mostly her—that she’s mine, and I’m ready to do that.
No matter what it takes.
“Now, I’m not a fucking idiot. I know there’s been talk of me stepping down because I didn’t want a wife before. For some reason, the Sinners think I’m dying to get an heir, but if that’s what you guys want from your leader, fine. I got a wife, but even then some of you are doubters.” I run my gaze over all of them. “Sham marriage. Fake marriage… for fuck’s sake, it’s gotten back to me that some of you fuckers think she’s my beard. Well, I’m more than happy to show you just how much your boss loves pussy.”
Ava turns to me, eyes wide in shock. I expected that. When I told her I wanted to present her to the Sinners, I instructed her to wear a short dress I bought just for the occasion—and not to bother with panties. She’s gotten better at giving up putting that scrap of a barrier between us, and I checked her myself earlier when Luca was driving us over to the Playground.
She’s ready for me, and I’m ready for this.
Leaning in, brushing my stubbled jaw against her cheek, I whisper, “You’re gonna love this.”
“Link, I don’t think—”
“Do you trust your husband?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Then trust me. Keep your eyes on me and just enjoy the ride.”
I pull back before Ava can say another word. Letting go of her hand, I grip her waist, lifting her easily. We’d been standing to the side of the conference table so all it takes is a twist and a turn before she’s propped up on the edge of it.
One shove. That’s all it takes to get the hem of her dress out of my way.
Then, dropping to my knees, I ignore the murmurs and comments from the men as he lay my hands on her thighs.
“It’s just me and you, Ava,” I tell her, putting a small amount of pressure on her to spread her legs wide. I don’t force her—I never would—but I show her what I want.
After a moment’s hesitation, she gives it to me.
Her curls are already glistening with her need. That’s my girl. Turned on more by the fact that we have an audience than how she has the most powerful fucker in all of the city at her mercy, she’s already keening before I get my hot mouth on her cunt.
Once I do, Ava closes her eyes, throwing back at her head, writhing as if she can’t get enough of me.
Perfect. She’s reacting just like I thought she would, and she’s motherfuckingperfect.
