VEIL OF TEMPTATION

CHAPTER 001

LEO’S POINT OF VIEW

It is said that people like to say that storms cleanse sins. That is a lie. Storms do not purify anything. They gulp screams, wash blood down the gutters, and silence the noise of people doing what they are not supposed to.

I had trusted enough of them to know. Tonight was no different. I threw open the door of the ruined chapel and shook the water off my coat. I smelled of rot and damp. The floor was covered with shattered stained glass that resembled colored ice. Pews were upside down, some broken, others without legs.

Mould crept up the walls as though it were going to swallow the entire place. This building had been kept standing longer than it should have been by my money. Now it was hardly holding its own. I took a cigarette, and the smoke rose up into the dripping rafters. “Do not move! ”The voice cut sharp through the silence. I stopped halfway through the drag and looked.

I questioned myself a moment whether the storm outside was not playing a joke on me. But she was there. A woman in a plain grey dress. Her hands held a rosary like a knife. Her hair was pulled too hard, and her face washed off its softness.

And her eyes—grey, bright, and fierce—flashed right into me. A nun. Or almost one. God had a sick sense of humor. “You are trespassing,” she said. Her voice was even and clear, and rain was beating the roof. I puffed a puff of smoke. “This is private property.” Her knuckles went white about the beads. “Your property.

The same property you left to rot. Look at it. It is nothing but a wreck. ”I shrugged. “I think it has character. ”Her lips were drawn in a hard line. “You have no character.” I lifted a brow.

The majority of those who talked to me in such a way were buried in the ground. But instead of irritation, I felt a twitch of amusement. I suppose you have not come to thank me for the money I invested in this dump? I responded, flicking ash to the ground.

She moved nearer, with her shoulders set. I had witnessed murderers stare with less flame. You believe that bricks and money can clean you? Repentance cannot be bought. It has to be lived. ”I laughed, sharp and loud, and bounced off the ruined walls. Then tell me, what is forgiveness these days? One million? Two?”

"Forgiveness is no commodity," she said, and her voice was colder than the snow out there .“Pity.” I watched her and pulled on my smoke. You are not sworn in, are you? Her jaw tensed. “I am preparing for vows.” “Interesting.”

I leant against the remaining altar. Her hand shook like she would have hit me with the rosary. Broken heart? Bored of life?” Her eyes narrowed. What is it that you, a person like that, destroy? Too much money? No conscience? ”Both.“

You are not a man,” she said. You are a wolf in a suit. And you, I sneered, must be the lamb that is foolish enough to walk in front of me. Her fingers tightened more round the beads. I almost wished she would. "You are not here," she said. Her voice was low, even again.

Return to the hole that vomited you. This is holy ground. ”I looked about at the wreck. “Holy? Looks more like a graveyard.” And wouldst thou purge my soul? It would be thy sweet little body, dripping like holy water. You may re-erect all the walls here, but it will not make you what you are. Money cannot clean your soul. ”I stepped closer. Near enough to see her chest swell and fall, near enough to see the rim of fear creep in her eyes, though she attempted to conceal it.“You know what?” My grin was wicked. Her mouth hardened, and she said nothing.

My voice was a knife in the storm. She just turned and walked out into the storm and left me with smoke curling around me and a funny itch under my skin. I had not experienced anything but numbness in years. But her—this obstinate near-nun—she awakened something ugly and alive in me.

I trampled the cigarette with my foot and trailed her. Rain fell and wet me at once. Her grey dress clung to her frame as she ran over broken cobblestones ahead of me. I stared at her, contemplated her eyes, her mouth, and that obstinate fire. And I thought about how it would be to spoil her in all the ways a man like me can. I cursed under my breath. She was a nun.

“Hey!” I called out. She didn’t stop. “Stop running!” And yet still held to that little... incident? She shook her head, flashed her anger in her eyes, and turned her head again. She had nothing to do with me. Too bad.

I easily caught her and caught her by the arm as she stumbled over loose stone. She turned, pulling away more vigorously than I had supposed. “Let go of me!” Her voice cracked, raw.

I raised my hands, palms out. “Relax, Sister. I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” “Yeah. Sorry for what I said earlier.” My grin mocked my own apology. That was the devil in my dick, not me. “You are the devil,” she hissed. “Men like you do not talk. You ruin. You take. You kill. ”I tilted my head. Have you ever lost it all?

Her eyes burned. “Incident? You call it that?” She stabbed me in the chest. Brave little lamb. You took your dirt here and left us with the rubbish. Do you even know what you did?” I stayed silent. “You do not,” she snapped.

Her voice was now trembling, and it was breaking under the burden of it. You are not concerned about the children. The wounded. The dead. Father Andrew was a good man, and you… Her throat tightened. “You destroyed him. You destroyed all of us.”

"I did not draw the trigger," I said, in a flat voice. Her scream tore through the rain. “It was your men! Your deal! Your fault!”

Her face crumpled, and the tears fell and mingled with the rain. Her voice broke again. To see your life burn, because men like you treat people like dirt? But the words stayed, caught in the sight of her shaking in my presence.

I ought to have told her the truth. The world was mean and unjust, and to survive, you had to close the part of yourself that cared. She dropped, her knees knocking on the wet rocks, her sobs ripping her heart.

Her eyes were shiny, her voice glassy, as she turned her back.

“Shit,” I muttered. My hand pulled through my wet hair. I stood in front of her cowering, not knowing what the hell I was to do.“Get up,” I ordered. She stayed down.I groaned, and my hand fumbled to stroke her head.

She didn’t fight me. Rather, she leant forward against me, crying into my chest, and her entire body shook. “Are you done?” I asked. No answer. “Listen,” I said. I was sharp, though not as sharp as I would have liked to be. Sobbing will not bring your priest back. Won’t fix these ruins. My money can.

”But still she was against me, and her warmth cut the cold. “You are a monster. ”I chuckled low. “Yeah. Heard that before. ”She pressed against me again, her head on my shoulder. Her breath touched my neck, and a shock ran through me. Wrong time. Wrong woman. But I was not able to prevent the thoughts that were clawing me.

“I hate you,” she whispered.“ Join the line,” I said, smirking. Her weak shove did nothing. She shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest. "You are tiring, God," I said. My hand stroked her back in a fumbling way.

She tilted her face up. Her lips parted so that I could feel her breath. The storm had vanished for a moment, and I just wanted to taste her. To ruin her. She saw it in my eyes. Her own widened. She threw me off and scrambled up. “No. I am sorry. I should not have…” My voice was less harsh than I wanted. “I am sorry. I am so stupid.” “Stupid for what?” I asked, rising.

Her cheeks burned red. “Nothing. I need to go.” "Yes, you are," I said after a long pause. I am sorry. ”I grabbed her arm and stopped her. She flinched but didn’t run. “Do not apologize,” I said.

Then the thought came to me. “You do not need to be sorry.” Her grey eyes looked up at me, bewildered with something gentler. "Yes, you are," I said after a long pause. “About all of it.” She blinked, startled.

But the world is indifferent to right and wrong. It does not care about you. Or me. ”Her lips parted. “What are you saying?” “Let me fix this for you.” My words were steady and casual.

“I own other buildings. Empty ones in Albany. I will spend three months establishing new business. I would repair this place for you. For the children. Make it less of a graveyard. ”Her eyes were narrow and suspicious, yet there was interest there as well. “You could all move. I can make it happen. ”She set her teeth, turned her back, and walked into the rain. I would like to know before six in the evening tomorrow! I called after her and could not stop the smug grin. She didn’t look back.

I was in the storm, wet to the bone, and watched her go .And I was stung, as I had not been stung in a long time, by losing something I did not even know I wanted. Then the thought came to me. "Leo," I said to myself, "you will have to fuck that nun."

But the question tore me like the storm. Would she allow me to destroy her... or would she destroy me?