Son of Sin (Book 3 of the Forbidden Series)

Damien Sanchez stormed into the house slamming the door behind him so hard the picture frames on the wall shook. The ruckus drew the attention of everyone in the house. Chase Sanchez rose from her seat and stepped into the foyer to see what the commotion was about. Her fifteen-year-old son was tearing off his coat and throwing it into the closet, his temper flaring white hot. “What on earth is wrong Damien?” She asked and gasped when he turned to look at her. His lip was cracked, and his left eye was bruised and starting to swell. “What’s wrong?” He growled unable to believe she even had to ask. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” He snapped stomping into the large living room where his parents were entertaining. His sister and new brother-in-law had just flown in with their new baby. His dad’s entire band had come out to visit the new child. They had all been visiting and cooing over the infant when Damien had arrived home. Mike Sanchez was standing beside the fireplace as his son stormed into the living room pointing his finger at him. “You!” Damien yelled, and the infant started to stir. “You’re what’s wrong, you always are.” He accused. “Keep your voice down.” Mike snapped. “You will wake Layla.” “I don’t care,” Damien growled stepping up to glare his father in the eye. Even at fifteen, Damien was tall for his age he could almost stand eye to eye with his six-foot-two father. “It’s your fault as usual.” “What do you think I’ve done to you now?” Mike asked rolling his eyes at his son’s dramatics. The world was always ending with teenagers, and somehow it was always his fault. “I got dumped… again, because her father found out whose son I am.” Damien growled. Mike sighed. “You would think a rich boy would be every father’s dream,” Mike said not understanding his son’s dating difficulties. “You would think.” Damien snipped pacing the room as he ranted. “Instead they think about you, your history, and your personality. They think of your excessive drug use…” “Past use.” Mike corrected. He had been clean now for almost eighteen years and proud of it. “They don’t care. They look at your womanizing, your temper, your long arrest record, and the way you repeatedly humiliate your wife and children in the media. They look at your bastard son and see a mini-Mike. They don’t want their babies getting involved with a guy like you. As usual, I try to defend you foolishly and end up getting my ass beat.” Mike stood calmly while his hot-headed son ranted. When the boy was done, he took a calming breath and spoke without emotion. “Have you ever stopped to think that perhaps the problem is not me, but you? You are just as hot-headed and temperamental as I am. You get into just as many fights, and this is your sixth girlfriend this year alone?” Mike asked stressing his point. Damien staggered back insulted by the implication. “I am nothing like you.” He snarled in denial. “You are exactly like me. Face it you are your father’s son.” Mike snickered, and Damien stormed out in a huff. His daughter glared up at Mike from the couch where she held her new baby girl. “Dad, you know how he feels, why would you do that?” Kat scolded. “He’ll get over it.” Mike chuckled. “It’s time he comes to terms with life anyway. I’m sick of these dramatic.” “He’s fifteen; at this age, life is nothing but dramatic.” His wife argued. “I’ll go talk to him.” “No.” Ronny Creek piped up from the high back chair he had been lounging in. He placed the empty rum glass he held on the end table beside him. Rising from his seat, Ronny ran his hands over his slacks pressing out the wrinkles. “Let me talk to him. Teenagers hate to listen to their parents. Let me explain the benefits of wealth and fame to the boy.” He said leaving the room. Ronny walked out into the foyer and up the curving staircase to the second level of the mansion. He walked down the hall to the last room where Damien’s radio was blaring through the door. Ronny stopped in the hall to look at himself in the mirror with a grin. Sure, he was vain and why not he was an insanely successful black man in his forties and still looked twenty-something. Life was good, and this was the point he wanted to get across to the boy. Ronny knocked on the door and decided not to wait for an invitation because he probably was not going to get one. Ronny entered and found the boy sitting on his bed staring at him. Damien reached over and turned off the radio. “What?” He snarled. Ronny shut the door and pulled up a chair form the desk. Taking a seat, he leaned forward and looked the boy in the eyes. “I know getting dumped hurts…” Ronny began. “Is this going to be one of those, ‘It hurts, but I promise you’ll meet the right one someday’ speech?” Damien sighed rolling his eyes. Ronny snickered. “Hell no, that is the concerned parent speech. This is the fun uncle speech.” Damien perked up suddenly interested. “What are you going to say that’s so different?” “I’m going to say to hell with those girls. Who needs them? The relationship thing is overrated. Look at us for example. Your mom and dad, they love each other to death, but they are always fighting. Eric and Pam, they have never strayed, but Eric has been with the same woman since day one. He has never been able to truly enjoy all the aspects of being a famous rock star. Now David and your sister Kat, that’s incredible love don’t get me wrong; but he is twenty years older than her. One day he is going to be pushing around a walker, and she is still going to be looking fine. That is just going to brew all kinds of jealousy issues. Sure, love is grand but restrictive and problematic. “Look at me; I’m the only Heathen left unmarried. I’m as happy as a kid in a candy shop. With fame and money come crazy-sexy women. I’m talking swimsuit models, playboy bunnies, pop Divas, Hollywood starlets, and hotel heiresses. I’m talking crazy s*x with no commitment. When you get bored and trust me you always will; you can trade her in for the next bleached blonde large breasted gold digger. Let me tell you this, gold digger’s they get a bad rap. They do. There are plus sides to gold diggers. You always know exactly what you’re getting, and they always know exactly what they are there for so there are no misunderstandings. As long as you don’t do something stupid like marry one or give her your credit card, it’s all good.” Damien stared at Ronny with wide eyes and a sly smile. “Are you saying I should give up on dating nice girls and just become a sugar daddy?” Ronny reached out and put his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “My advice in life; learn to play like a master… grow up… gets some friends…. get a name… start a band… and enjoy the rewards.” “And become a sugar daddy,” Damien added with a smirk. Ronny and Damien bumped fists with wide grins. “The Mac Daddy of sugar daddies.”