Twisted in obsession des.., p.1
Twisted in Obsession (Destructive Devastation Book 1), page 1
Twisted in Obsession
Destructive Devastation Series
Book One
Aly Beck
Copyright © 2024 by Aly Beck
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Pretty in Ink Creations
Dev Editing: Steph Rawlins
Editing: Jenni Gauntt
Formatting: Jenni Gauntt
Contents
Introduction
Red Flag Shopping List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Acknowledgments
Connect with Aly
Also by Aly Beck
Introduction
Welcome to Twisted in Obsession.
This is a book on the darker side of things with several Red Flags that may tick your yays or nays. Please see the next page and visit my website www.authoralybeck.com to view the full list to ensure you know what you’re jumping into.
And if you happen to come across something that needs to be added, please email me at alybeck1129@gmail.com
Thank you so much for once again reading my work! I appreciate you all so much and I hope you like Journey’s thiccccc story! Ha.
Red Flag Shopping List
AKA Triggers to be aware of
Please note that Twisted in Obsession does dabble in darker themes and have situations that might be uncomfortable.
BC removal without FMC’s consent—AKA—she’s heavily drugged and not conscious when this scene happens.
Knife Play
Blood Play
Orgasm denial.
And much more…
Check out www.authoralybeck.com for the full list.
Dedication
This is for all the readers who love the phrase:
“Can’t waste a drop of this cum.” As it’s pushed back inside.
This one’s for you.
Enjoy.
Silence rests between us—Sheppard, Arrow, and myself—the Devils of Briar Cove.
We're the three youngest members of the Viotto Crime Family. Not yet to our full potential, but so close we can taste it with our initiation happening in three weeks—just after our twenty-first birthdays.
Since we were sixteen, we've proven how reliable we are, time and time again—how dangerous we've become wielding our weapons in the face of our enemies.
No one will ever forget our names or the blood on our hands.
Three years ago, my boys and I were solely responsible for taking down our greatest foe. We were only eighteen and tasked to eradicate the biggest threat Briar Cove had ever seen. They were threatening to bring dangerous weaponry, human trafficking, and drugs to sell to our people.
Not in our town. Or on our watch.
The amount of bloodshed that night left our names in the history books. People feared our very existence. Cowered when we waltzed into rooms.
Fifty-five.
That's how many men chose the wrong side and lost their lives as we eliminated them and their warehouse. In the end, we lit it up, watching the empire they invested in blown to smithereens with the name of their leader on their dying lips—Shadow.
That night we earned our name. The Devils. The three of us together are unstoppable and deadly. Bound by our duty to our family, but more so to each other.
Tonight, we stand outside a large brick mansion, filled to the brim with people from all over town partying their lives away. Their loud voices and thumping music carry through the empty private lane we're currently occupying.
‘We shouldn't be here. We shouldn't do this.’ Shepp signs with agitation. ‘Your father is going to murder us all.’
Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. Honestly, my father is probably too busy with the raging party he's throwing at his infamous tower in the middle of town to notice we've slipped away. Mafia families under the Viotto umbrella, from all over California, are drinking the night away in celebration of life.
In fact, he was too busy to notice my arrival earlier this evening before the festivities at his precious tower, overlooking the expansive city he thinks he owns. His arrogance will get the best of him one day, and I'll make sure it's me who delivers the karma.
“When the funds are in my hands, yes. Then the exchange will be made. My collateral, for what he’s keeping of mine,” my father chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his phone plastered to his ear. “My collateral will continue to do what I ask until the big event. Once that’s out of the picture, Chloe Satin is on the line. Her father and I had a nice long talk about the future.”
My jaw tics at the sound of her name. Chloe Satin. Annoying. Clingy. Bratty to the extreme. She's the daughter of a known mafia family, straight from Italy. Her father owns Satin Firearms, producing the deadliest shotguns on the market.
What exactly does he mean on the line for? Marriage? And for who? Arrow? Sheppard? Someone else in the family? Doubtful. He doesn't fucking care about anyone other than me and the boys when it comes to marriage. It’s all about who benefits him more or who can provide the most money.
So, no. That's not happening. Not under my fucking watch. Besides, I'm promised to Journey West and have been for years. That woman is my past, present, and future. Chloe was never on our radar. In fact, she has been lurking around for years, eager to sink her claws into someone powerful. But that won’t be Arrow, Shepp, or I.
My fingers twitch at my side as desperation clings tightly around my throat, slowly closing it. My father’s words from earlier this evening settle heavily on my chest, repeating in my head. He can't take this away from us. He can't take Journey from under my nose and replace her with Chloe.
Fuck!
He can’t do this to me—to us. I’ll never allow him to make connections behind my back and take Journey from my greedy fingers.
That familiar feeling gnaws at my insides again, aching for me to get a move on.
We need to go to her—to Journey.
I need a plan. I need someone to look into this for me and examine the marriage contract he has with whoever. If there really is one. There's always something in writing.
I just haven't found it yet.
“We're going out,” I state when I make my rounds through the overly-rich crowd gathering on the top floor of my father’s tower in the ballroom, standing before Arrow and Shepp.
‘Where?’ Shepp signs.
“We're going on a hunt.”
If one of us is getting married off to someone other than Journey, then we need to make our moves. Make Journey ours now. Our time is slowly running out, and we need to put a claim on her before my father tries to take her away from us.
In this game of chess, I’m the goddamn winner. Not Gabriel Viotto.
‘Why?’ Shepp signs with confusion, furrowing his brows.
“Because my father was just discussing marrying us off to Chloe Satin.” I cringe when I say her name, getting the same reaction from the other two. “So, shall we?” I ask, gesturing toward the door.
“My kitten is at a nice little party in Millionaires Row.” Arrow turns his phone, displaying a picture of our girl dressed in a sexy kitten outfit with a mask secured over her face.
Her head is tipped back, and her curls dangle past her shoulders in a frizzy mess. Euphoria takes over her expression. Lips popped open. Eyes squeezed shut. Hands in the air.
She looks too good to be all alone in the midst of a high school party. Especially with all the fools around her, staring her down with desire in their blown eyes.
It’s time to leave our mark.
“Then it's settled. We'll sneak away.”
I blow out a breath, getting out my frustrations. In three weeks, that will be our celebration. Our initiation. Where we will fall to our knees and bleed for our family in front o
I inspect my second-in-command’s stoic face for a moment. Worry lines crease his brows, pulling at the large scar slicing through the right side of his face. A deep battle wound. Just one of the many wounds and traumas courtesy of his father, Thomas Mondelli, who once served mine. He was his second-in-command, ruling over Briar Cove, but now lies six feet deep.
Good riddance, asshole.
I mull over his words. He's my voice of reason, after all. Ironic? Yes. Shepp hasn't uttered a word since that fateful night when he was ten—only using his hands to communicate through sign language. Something Arrow and I have learned for his sake and ours.
He's the man pulling me back from the edge when I want to do something rash or stupid.
But this isn't one of those moments.
"Only a few more weeks now," my father, Gabriel, teases, stepping up to me with pride as the party begins.
He thinks I'm his prodigy—his only son. The next great ruler of the mafia, he has so carefully constructed before I was born and through my childhood. Boy, does he have a rude awakening for what my friends have in store for his long-running business.
"This will be you. And then, this will be your playground." He gestures to the people around us, dressed to the nines, sipping their fancy wine. Their laughs and murmurs fill the room over the orchestra that plays softly on the raised stage.
My father needlessly messes around with his wealth, throwing it here and there. Showing it off with fancy cars, jewels, and clothing.
Maybe that's why he's bleeding money through every one of his operations.
Rave, the club he owns. The Four Raven’s bar that sits downtown is nearly bankrupt. The list goes on and on. But he keeps spending as if he has it.
Slowly but surely, Shepp, Arrow, and I are cleaning them up under the guise of helping my father, of course. Right now, we've got our claws in deep at Rave, his nightclub. Gambling machines. High stakes, elite poker games. They're all played and maintained in our VIP room. One day, it will be ours. People respect us despite our age. They've seen what we can do to our enemies—a bloodbath. They also witness the good we do for this community through our charity work. We help the people of Briar Cove get back on their feet after hard times through our loans.
"And then, we can throw you the wedding of the century." His grin widens even further, borderline predatory when he claps my shoulder. "You'll make your stepmother and I so proud when you say I do."
My eyes cast toward Shepp's mother, Aurora—my stepmother. The woman barely standing on her own two feet. Her eyes glazed over even more than they were ten years ago. She's just a passenger in this life. My father says jump, and she asks, how high? But I guess that's what he thinks makes the perfect mafia wife—subservient, obedient, and pliable.
It's not how I like them. Give me a fight—someone to slap me. Challenge me, for God's sake. I don't want a useless sack of skin hanging off my every word. I want a fighter.
I smile at the prospect because my future holds just that.
"Wonderful," I say as he squeezes my shoulder again.
"Work the room, Son."
But what I heard was—leave the room, Son. So, I did. Even better, I left the property after learning what my future wife was up to and took my two best friends with me. We were miserable anyhow.
"Fuck my father," I hiss, pulling out of his grip. "I want her." My runner. My challenge. The girl who will slap me until I come.
Journey West.
My eyes set on the masked girl shining through the opened window, swaying her hips to the loud music. Dressed in a tight, black, leather corset, one-piece that shows off her lean legs and hips. Paired with fishnet tights and high heels. Fuck. I want to fucking burn it off her body and put a sack over her. No man should see what I will see every morning when I wake up.
Only, she hasn't a clue.
Boys around her ogle what’s mine. Ours. The Devil's property. Like she's their next meal. Greedy douchebags. I want to pluck their eyeballs from their sockets. I take a deep breath, settling the anger festering beneath my skin. That's why I'm here, to sort them out and show them their place in Journey's life. Nowhere.
They’re all sporting masks to celebrate the holiday—the annual Briar Cove Masked-Up Celebration for all outgoing seniors of Briar Cove Public.
Come one. Come all. Hide your identities and party like you've never partied before behind an anonymous mask as one last hurrah.
It's the one night everyone is allowed to put a mask over their faces and lose themselves to debauchery without consequence. My eyes narrow when their attention is on her, the lonely dancer in the middle of the dance floor, pushing everyone else away.
She swivels seductively again, surveying the room. Her hands roam through her wild, brown curls as she turns circles. She is a lost sailor at sea, drowning in the ocean of people.
We're the lifeboats, ready to save her. And then keep her.
"I'm with him! We can all share." Arrow steps forward, his eyes lasering in on our girl through the window. "Sharing is caring, Sheppy boy. And I need her more than I need orange juice." He grins widely, showing off his pearly whites.
Orange juice? I sigh. It's his favorite drink after a night of work when blood spills and hearts stop. No clue why. Or how the tradition got started.
Most men our age—twenty-one—would have a glass of bourbon, reminiscing about the night's activities. But not Arrow. Not with how he got his start at fifteen, curbing his bloodlust with my father, murdering traitors, and taking out the trash. That's when the tradition started. He'd come home to the mansion covered in blood and sit at the kitchen island with his favorite snack as my father praised his efforts.
Gabriel Viotto knew how to mold psychopaths. We're living proof of it.
Especially Arrow, who was born in the shadows. The bastard child of a Catholic Priest, who loved Arrow but knew he could never provide for him and stay in his position at the church. He had no wife, only a mistress who fled the moment Arrow was born, leaving him on the doorstep of Briar Cove Catholic Church. The Priest tried to keep him concealed, raising him secretly, but failed miserably with all the trouble Arrow got into. Finally, at six, he handed Arrow over to my father; the rest is history.
But I digress.
Our girl has no idea we've been watching for so long.
We, the three Devils, see everything and everyone. We're in the damn wind, watching and waiting with patience. Especially for her. Our future. The woman we hunt in the dark, following her whenever possible. She's ours. And no one can take her away from us.
Not even herself.
She can run and hide if she wants to, but we'll always find her.
‘So, you're really giving up your promise?’ Shepp signs again with worry on his silent face.
"Would you keep a promise to the family? The same family that silenced you? The same family that didn't protect you or me!" I shout, pushing my finger into Shepp's hard chest so forcefully, that he stumbles back a step.
Anger rushes through me, thinking back to what our parents put us through. They’ve put us through hell and back without remorse, claiming to build our characters. Shepp more than me. His father took his voice. He took everything from him without even blinking. But my father has done the same in other ways, locking me in the dark and throwing away the key. His paranoia will eat away at him until he’s pacing the floors and pulling at his hair. Everyone in the Viotto Crime Family has seen the turn of events and the senseless torture he’s put his victims through. Even six years ago, they were starting to question his motives.
“This will be your kingdom someday, Nephew,” my uncle says, squeezing my shoulder as we stand back from the crowd, gathering in the ballroom.
I look up at him. “I’m only fifteen,” I murmur, shaking my head. “My father will rule until he dies.” And knowing him, he’ll live forever just to prove a point.
“Watch him, Jericho. Watch your father as he spirals. This will be yours soon. Start building your army before your father turns his rage on you.” His dark eyes stare me down when I swallow hard.
He’s already made my life a living hell. What more could he do?
