Page 16 of The Bane of a Sinner
The door opened, revealing Shame, his face a mask of apprehension. He flinched when he saw me, his eyes widening in disbelief and then flashing with fear. “Bane! What are you doing here?”
The apartment itself was sparse, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of Chinatown, with a single bare bulb casting long, distorted shadows.
“That’s what I’d like to know, Shame,” I said, my voice low and steady, scanning the room as I pushed my way in, only to freeze when my eyes landed on a far wall. There, mapped out like some crime scene evidence board, was every member of the Soulless Sinners, along with faces that belonged to other organizations, all connected to the underworld. Walking over to it, I said nothing as I tried to understand what it was I was looking at.
There, on the board right before me, was a picture of Diana. My Diana, along with other faces, some I didn’t recognize, while others I did. Reaching for her picture, I removed it from the board and turned to face my intern, yelling, “Why the fuck do you have a picture of my woman?”
“August,” Shame frantically said. “I can explain.”
Dropping her picture, I lunged at my intern and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. “Why the fuck do you have a picture ofmy woman?” I roared, my voice raw with a fury I hadn’t known I possessed.
Shame stammered, his eyes darting between me and the disturbing tableau on the wall, his face a mask of panic. He tried to pull away, but my grip tightened, knuckles white. The air crackled with unspoken accusations and the suffocating weight of betrayal. I could feel my vision narrowing, focusing solely on the innocent face of Diana, now tainted by this sordid display.
Shame finally managed to gasp out, “August, it’s not what you think. I can explain.” He thrashed against me, desperate to escape my hold. But the betrayal cut too deep. The intricate web George was spinning, the hidden lineage, the unexplained DNA—it all suddenly coalesced into a terrifying, personal threat. Shame wasn’t just an intern; he was a pawn, or worse, a player in a game I was only just beginning to comprehend, and my Diana was caught in the crossfire.
“Explain this, Shame!” I shoved him hard against the wall, the impact echoing through the small apartment. My gaze swept across the board again, a dizzying array of faces—members of my own club, faces from rival organizations, and now, the chilling presence of Diana. The implications were horrifying.
Was Shame working for George?
Was he trying to expose me?
Or was this some twisted attempt to protect me, to warn me about something I couldn’t see?
The questions clawed at me, each one a new layer of the deception I was drowning in.
“She’s Kronos’ daughter!” Shame shouted, and my face paled. Releasing him, I took a step back, slowly shaking my head.
“No,” I muttered. “You’re wrong. She’s from a small town in Texas.”
“Athens, Texas,” Shame stated. “I’m sorry, August. But Diana is the daughter of Kronos, the president of the Gods of Mayhem. I recognized her when she showed up at the clubhouse. I was going to get her out of there, but you got to her first. Then George saw her, and everything went to shit.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. Kronos. The president of the Gods of Mayhem. The irony was a bitter, acrid taste in my mouth. Diana, my quiet, empathetic Diana, a daughter of the very chaos I navigated. My mind reeled, trying to reconcile the woman I knew with the daughter of a rival kingpin. The meticulous lineage charts George obsessed over, the obscure genetic markers—it all clicked into a horrifying new pattern.
George wasn’t just a collector; he was a hunter, and Diana’s lineage was the prize.
“And George?” I managed to croak out, my voice a shadow of its former self. “What does George have to do with it?”
Shame, still breathing heavily, met my gaze, his fear slowly being replaced by a grim understanding. “George... that sadistic motherfucker is in bed with theSociety. He’s been trying to solidify the Soulless Sinners’ connection to the underworld for years. He thinks if he can erase the bloodlines, he can take over the Biker Federation. When he saw Diana, he saw an opportunity, and the leverage he desperately needed to control the table. He knows you ignored him. He knows you are still with Diana. He’s hoping that if you get her pregnant, and marry her, he can then use Diana’s relationship with the Gods of Mayhem and form an alliance and then use them to take down the Golden Skulls.”
“Why the fuck does he want to destroy the Golden Skulls?”
“Because he can’t fucking let the Biker Federation learn the truth about the Soulless Sinners.”
Glaring at my intern, I waited.
Huffing, Shame raked his hands through his hair and groaned. “Fuck it. Gregory Stone, the founder of the Soulless Sinners, was one of five men who founded the Golden Skulls in Lincoln, Nebraska. He, along with a man named Edward Goldman, raped and murdered Francis Doherty, the youngest sister of Brian Doherty, the original founder of the Golden Skulls. And then if that wasn’t bad enough, those two sick fucks stole money from the club before they ran. Gregory took his portion of that money and started the Soulless Sinners. The club you and I are a part of is founded on a bed of lies, murder, and deceit. That’s what George is trying to keep hidden from the table.”
“And he’s using me to help him.”
Shame nodded. “Yes.”
“And the man you were talking to tonight at the teahouse?”
“James Doherty. He’s been feeding me information, and I’ve been doing the same.”
“Why?”
“Because James knows that George and William are working together. Only he hasn’t figured out why yet.”
