Street Gangs

***DAMIAN***

Fantastic... Now I also had to take in the brat. My stepsister. Yet another stupid woman who meant nothing but trouble. As if I didn’t have enough other worries.

Every night, as a gang boss, I made sure that order reigned on my streets. Scum who ventured into my territory came into contact with me without question, and most of the time it was a one-time experience for both sides.

The streets were mine. Nobody – absolutely nobody – got in my way. But there was: Jax. My mortal enemy and boss of the Slots... the gang that ruled on the other side of town. Jax was a guy who knew how to break the rules and cross the lines. He was tough. Stubborn and always trying to take over parts of my turf. He was my biggest worry at the moment.

But now? Now I was supposed to babysit for a brat I didn’t even know.

I leaned against the window frame and stared out. A taxi stopped at the curb. She was there.

Celine. That was her name.

The taxi door opened slowly, and then she got out. And at that moment, I almost got hit by lightning.

“Holy mother of fuck!”

I leaned on the windowsill with both hands while my pants felt tighter and tighter, as if there was suddenly too little space. My eyes didn’t leave her for a second, and the longer I stared at her, the worse it got.

There she stood – as red as sin itself and outrageously beautiful. Her long, silky hair fell over her shoulders like a firestorm, her legs seemed endless, and her figure... Slim like a model, with curves in all the right places. And then there were her eyes - green, piercing, catlike. She looked at me from afar, and it was as if she had sensed my gaze right through the glass.

I knew she was trouble, but how could I keep my distance when I could barely move without imagining what she would look like beneath me?

With a heavy breath, I shook my head, forcing myself to leave the window and head downstairs to the front door. The cool metal handle gripped my hand tightly, but my mind was racing as I tried to keep a clear head.

The front door opened slowly as she entered. The air seemed electrified, the room suddenly felt smaller, as if there was no more room for both of us.

When she took the first step into my house, the air seemed to change. It was as if every fiber of my self-control was suddenly on a knife edge. Her gaze swept across the room, uncertain, searching, but still confident, as if she had long since decided to stay here – as if she had made her way into my territory without wondering whether she was welcome.

“So, you’re Damian?” Her voice was soft, almost like a melody, provoking and teasing me at the same time. Her green eyes scrutinized me, cool and waiting.

I forced a nod, my eyes fixed firmly on her lips, which curled up into a small, almost smug smile. “Seems so,” I murmured, trying to sound neutral.

But every sentence I said to her felt like a battle against my thoughts. Because my imagination had long since gone haywire, pulling one image after another out of my deepest darkness.

Her green eyes flashed. She shook her red hair out of her face and pushed a fine strand behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” she said dryly. “My mother has told me a lot about you...”