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“Don’t do it,” Royce mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “Just drop it and hope Devil does, too.”
Twig is a stupid son of a bitch. My second gave him a chance to back down. Doing his job, coming between me and the rest of the Sinners, Royce was trying to save Twig’s dumb ass.
It doesn’t work.
Twig jerks his chin at me. “Yeah, boss. Alright. And because she’s your woman, I’ll try my best not to gag her.”
Ava gasps, and I drop my hand, waggling my fingers, sending her a wordless message not to let what this idiot is saying get to her.
I’m straight as an arrow, but I’d rather suck a cock myself than every watch Ava go down on another guy.
Twig doesn’t know that, though—but he will.
I look forward to it, too.
Now, if he’d been limp, expecting Ava’s mouth to get him hard, I might’ve given him a pass for his little stunt. I’d still teach him a lesson—especially since Mona identified him as one of the mouths talking shit about my wife—but things might have been different. Going down on Ava, showing the rest of the syndicate just how much power she has over me… that wasn’t meant to get them off. It was meant to show them that she was my queen.
But Twig doesn’t have a flaccid cock, or even one that’s semi-hard. Oh, no. It’s a full-blown erection, and he yanks it out of his pants with a smirk on his face that tells me he’s already imagining what it’ll be like to have Ava’s lush lips wrapped around him.
He pulls out his cock.
I pull out my piece.
Over the sudden silence, I hear Ava suck in a breath—and Royce mutter, “Fucking moron,” under his.
He knows. My second knows what’s coming.
I don’t disappoint.
With a steady hand and no emotion on my face, I aim for his exposed dick. One shot and, instead of my wife blowing him, Devil blows it the fuck off.
Close enough, right?
Twig barely gets the chance to rip a high-pitch squeal before I shift my hold on the gun, lifting it just high enough before putting a single bullet through his skull.
He’s dead before he hits the industrial carpet.
Royce stepped aside so that he was out of the spatter zone. Killian curses when he sees that he ended up with Twig’s blood on his suit because he was too slow to get out of the way, but he shuts his trap when I turn my gaze on him.
“Does anyone else think it’s a good idea to disrespect my wife?”
Behind me, Ava is panting softly. She’s probably close to hyperventilating, and I’m sorry she had to see Devil take control, but that dumb fuck thought I would let her suck his cock. MyAvaon her knees for another man…
She goes to her knees for God—and for Devil. No one else.
And I want every Sinner to know it. If I have to exterminate my whole crew for her, I would.
I’d burn the fucking world down for this woman if I had to, and I’d offer her the match to blow out when I was done.
When no one else proves to have a death wish like Twig did, I nod at them.
“Leave us.”
There isn’t any hesitation. Knowing I’m dead fucking serious—and that my Sig Sauer has more than enough rounds to take out anyone else who looks at me twice—the Sinners scatter.
The only one who lingers is Royce. Grabbing two guys by their jackets—Frankie and Julio—he jerks his chin down at Twig’s body.
After a quick game of rock-papers-scissors that Frankie wins, he grabs Twig’s boots. Julio wrinkles his nose and wordlessly picks the dead man up by his arms. They carry him out of the conference room.
