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    Banner: Devils Creed MC, #1
    Banner: Devils Creed MC, #1
    Banner: Devils Creed MC, #1
    Ebook112 pages2 hoursDevils Creed MC

    Banner: Devils Creed MC, #1

    By Rebel Outlaw

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    About this ebook

    Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown.

    There's only one King in the city that never sleeps, and he rules his kingdom with an iron fist. Devil's Creed President Banner St. James knows it's the only way to ensure peace between the borough's founding mafia families while staying off the ATF's radar.

    But when his enemy starts targeting the locals and threatening to disrupt the truce, the Italians make Banner an offer he can't refuse.

    Like all the Angelini women before her, Sophia must sacrifice her dreams to become the perfect mafia wife. When Sophia learns she has to marry the most dangerous man in the city, she begs her brother to reconsider. But it's too late, and the deal is sealed when Banner St. James puts a ring on her finger, claiming she's now his property and it's time to go home.

    Banner has no idea what to do with a trophy wife, but when his niece is dropped on his doorstep, he learns there's more to Sophia St. James than he realized. When his girls are put in the crosshairs, he knows there's more at stake than money and power, and he'll take out the devil himself if it means keeping them safe.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRebel Outlaw
    Release dateDec 11, 2023
    ISBN9798223474340
    Banner: Devils Creed MC, #1
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      Book preview

      Banner - Rebel Outlaw

      Chapter 1

      Banner

      Bent at the waist with my arms draped across the railing, I watch closely as every member of the club works tirelessly to help get our current order filled.

      A lot of shit has happened lately, and we're all exhausted. From shipments being hijacked out at sea, to money going missing, even so far as someone being stupid enough to target the locals under our protection.

      Ever think about handing over the keys to the kingdom and taking off? Kane, my treasurer asks, stepping up beside me.

      I turn my head and lift a brow. He knows my history and how I've been forced to leave once before. The Army or jail had been my only options, and back then, a cage felt like a death sentence—still did if I was telling the truth.

      I shake my head. Never. I'll never give it up.

      I turn back to survey my men pulling transmissions and disassembling motors. All these parts had been sold and would soon be packed into shipping containers and loaded onto The Lucifer. At sunrise, The Lucifer would head out to sea and reach its final destination in the weeks to come.

      Running a chop shop was risky, but it was profitable—at least it had been.

      As president of the Devil’s Creed MC, I was used to maneuvering through political minefields, but whatever was happening now, wasn't the norm. The city had always been a melting pot, a playground for various criminal elements to fight for their supremacy and to maintain some semblance of peace; a treaty had been agreed upon. There was enough room for everyone to prosper, but it required respect and motherfuckers staying in their own lane. Someone had forgotten this cardinal rule, and I was going to find out who.

      As king of the city that never slept, it was my birthright to keep the peace.

      Yo! I look over my shoulder and nod at Link.

      I hope like fucking hell he's got the information I've been waiting on.

      Pushing off the rail, I move back into my office, expecting my VP to follow.

      Tell me you have something. I take a seat and wait.

      I do. He drops a file on my desk and motions for me to open it.

      I look up with a lifted brow.

      Link rolls his eyes. It ain’t gonna bite ya.

      I pull the file closer, flip the cover, and quickly scan the contents. Rage like I've never felt before surges through my veins.

      There are photos of Ivan-fucking-Romanov and a cop with their heads together, looking too fucking cozy, discussing only God knows what. There are rules we all abide by and at the top of that list is Don't Talk to the Cops.

      My head cocks to the side as I scrutinize the grainy image of the pig. I've seen him before, but I can't recall where.

      Pushing that thought aside for the time being, I flip through the remainder of the file, and there's a lot of shit there—meetings, money, property.

      Where'd you get this? I ask.

      It was delivered anonymously.

      My eyes fly to his. Come again?

      Link rubs at the back of his neck and sighs. It was delivered anonymously.

      I scratch the days’ worth of stubble on my jaw. Anonymously. It's not a question, I heard him the first time, but it doesn't make sense. Who would benefit from us having this information?

      Link motions for the file and I slide it back to him focusing intently as he reads through all the information.

      How the hell did we miss that Ivan is a mother fucking snitch? I ask mostly to myself. The fucking Bratva sold us out to the cops.

      If Ivan is a snitch and working with the law, that means he's double-crossing the Italians too.

      Pushing up from my desk I move to the window and look out over the warehouse floor.

      What a clusterfuck.

      As I roll through the clubhouse gates, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. It stops only to start right back up again, making the pit in my stomach feel heavier.

      This can’t be good.

      Twisting the throttle, I quickly weave through the shipping containers that serve as protection between us and the outside world, around the clubhouse, and coast into my spot next to the door.

      The vibrations quit momentarily but start up again as I pull my phone from my pocket. When I see Dragon’s name flashing across the screen, I know he’s not calling with good news. Yeah?

      Harbor Patrol just intercepted The Lucifer, he says in a panic.

      My head whips around to the mostly empty parking lot behind me and I frantically look for my brother’s bike.

      Fuck, fuck, fuck!

      It’s not here.

      FUCK! I roar.

      Jumping off my bike, I sprint as fast as I can across the forecourt to the warehouse that serves as my personal workshop.

      Pay them, Dragon. Whatever they fucking want—pay them! I shout down the line as I burst through the freezer door, dodging slabs of meat hung from the ceiling on hooks.

      Banner, he sighs into my ear. "There’s nothing I can do. The Coastguard is already on scene. They’re going to seize everything, brother. Going to arrest everyone."

      That isn’t acceptable. I have people on my payroll to handle shit like this.

      With shaking hands, I punch in the security code on my workshops door. My heart is threatening to beat out of my chest as I yank it open, skirt around my desk, and roughly shake the mouse to awaken my computer.

      Come on, come on. I growl impatiently.

      Once the screen flickers to life, my fingers fly across the keyboard. The Lucifer’s onboard camera slide across the screen frame by frame.

      Where are you? I whisper as the screen cycles through different angles on The Lucifer.

      I fall heavily into my chair when I spot him. Fuck! There, on his knees in the middle of the deck is my brother with his hands clasped behind his head.

      I’m sorry, Boss, Dragon says, reminding me he’s still on the line.

      Call Bianchi. It’s time he earned that fucking retainer. I disconnect the call and whip my phone across the room.

      Shit!

      Seated at the head of the table, I try to keep my shit together as Link brings the brothers up to speed. It's not lost on anyone how much of an epic shit show today has been.

      Find anything? Haze grunts. As enforcer his solution is always to take out the problem and bury it in the Hudson River but this is too fucking big. Too many eyes are on us.

      Dragon shakes his head in the negative but his fingers never slow as he types furiously on the keyboard. He's been lurking in the city' private servers for anything that could explain what the fuck they have and how we can use it to get Ghost out.

      Doc, what'd they say at the jail? Kane looks to my pop for answers.

      I listen as pop relays what the lawyer had to say. The short of it, is things aren’t looking good, but we won't know anything for sure until he's arraigned.

      How'd we miss this? Kane asks, voicing the same question we all have.

      I open my mouth to answer but stop as Haze storms back into church, waiving a newspaper above his head. He levels me with his dark stare and tosses it on the table in front of me. My eyes drop to the headline‘New York's Most Eligible Bachelor is off the Market’. I keep reading, pausing when I see Ivan's name. What the fuck? I flip the page and there are pictures of Ivan but oddly none of his bride-to-be.

      This, I tap

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