Wallstreet God (The House Of Creed Book 1)

by D. M. Burns

  Learning a lot of lessons early on about how unfair life can truly be, only benefited me though. It taught me to be humble, grateful, and above all else thankful. And at one point in life, I use to believe that grateful and thankful held the same meaning, oh-no.

  Grateful is directed outwards from the person who is basking in the emotion, while thankful is derived from inside the person. And right now, I’m thankful for everything I’m about to receive and I’m one hundred fucking percent grateful to my little brother for the Winters’ offering I’m going to gladly accept with arms wide open.

  Truthfully, it was a hard go at that shit side of life until Victor Malone stepped in. Apparently, my mom reached out to him for help when she was pregnant looking to find my dad. Victor being the piece of shit that he was, ignored her as well as my existence until he got wind that I turn my gangster ways around and enrolled in college.

  Vick showed up my freshman year offering to foot the bill for my college education but in turn, I had to work for him upon graduation. Fuck, I wasn’t going to turn that shit down. Do you know how much it costs to attend LSU? Knowing that he was footing the bill, I signed up for that medical degree too. Google that shit before you judge me. There’s a lot of bad shit that can be said about Vick, but that man didn’t have to help me. I was grateful for that show of kindness. There’s that grateful thing I was telling you about.

  With that being said, after all the years I spent working alongside Vick at CC Capitals, I feel like I paid that debt back and then some. No one will ever understand the amount of work it required of me to keep that company above water after Brogan set his plan of ruin free. Once that little DNA dickhead with a perpetual hardon for Vick put his focus on us, I had to resource up. In the end, still, none of that mattered because we are equals partners now.

  At first, I was beyond fucking pissed. I wanted to snap Brogan’s bitch ass in two, but as soon as Brealyn Winters stepped through her office door, greeting me in that southern drawl, I gave zero fucks for CC Capitals or what’s now called Creed Capitals.

  Whatever name Brogan slaps on the outside of that building makes no difference to me. It all became crystal clear. Fuck the corporate ties and money. I have god damn money; more than I’ll ever spend. I simply don’t care anymore about anything except her. My priorities changed up.

  Sure, I saw her coming years ago. Honestly, I had no concept for that southern sweetness, her apparent role, or placement in my life. With the way, the visuals would hit me none of it made sense. I didn’t understand why I acted the way I did on the TV screen in my visions either. It was uncharacteristic of me and I found myself laughing out loud. I couldn’t fathom doing any of the shit, I’d had the fortune and foresight to see.

  Bottom line, I’m not fighting over spilled milk or leftover scraps from Vick’s company. So, fuck Creed Capitals and most importantly fuck Brogan Creed. Just keep in mind that there’s an endgame to all of this and it’s her.

  Staying outside of the limelight never bothered me. I’m more of a simple kind of man. Money’s never been a real motivator either. Yeah, it’s great to have because at one time I didn’t know where my next meal would come from. In light of that aspect, it’s a fundamental necessity but I know how to survive without it.

  Nonetheless, toss Brea in as a factor and I’m game for a Spartan Godlike type of brawl. It’s my time for victory. This is where I swoop in and steal the Wallstreet God’s most legendary love. I’ve patiently waited over the last decade of this lackluster life for this moment. Time to pony the fuck up and take it.

  That gullible motherfucker that is my baby brother, has no idea how long I’ve set off to the side and waited for this. Hell, I hadn’t even made up my mind whether or not I wanted it, her. Or how important she’d truly turn out to be. Not until I stood in her office staring off into a set of ocean depths that knows no end.

  I’m about to paint his futuristic domesticated plans into a menacing massacre of burning brimstone. His eternal happiness solely depends on my decisions. Do I feel bad you ask? The answer is simple. NO. Had he listened to me in his god damn boardroom that faithful day we finally met; he’d have everything he ever wanted. I would’ve walked away and altered God’s plan. Even if it meant hurting myself and her. Hell, he’s my little brother and I’m far from a heartless bastard.

  Brogan’s overinflated ego wouldn’t allow him to see the forest for the damn trees. If he’d simply taken the time to get to know me instead of exerting his corporate cutthroat bullshit my way, figuratively slapping me around with his billionaire dick, things would’ve turned out much differently for him. For me. For her.

  But he didn’t and its high time Brogan Creed learned some valuable key lessons in life. Those being… Lose. Failure. Ruin. And of course, gratitude. Don’t forget my favorite one… Thankful. His superiority far surpasses anything that would be deemed healthy. And there’s an underlying beauty in being able to admit and accept loss in life. Once you experience that then the rest of those core values will follow and snap into place. Time to reconstruct THE House of Creed with some humility.

  Standing outside the bakery of life, peeking in, and having your mouth salivate for a pastry but knowing damn well you can’t have it. I’m going to show him what it feels like to be me. Coming in second place to the most important thing in your life is one hell of a way to learn but he’s a deserving little fucker.

  Don’t get me wrong, I respect his hustle and his tenacious drive for business demise. Watching him over the years go hard at creating and cultivating The House of Creed out of nothing more than a few fundamental building blocks was impressive.

  But for all his corporate genius that motherfucker also has a deviant flip side too. The guy’s notorious streak for playing out his highly televised destruction on his opponents with zero remorse had me laughing my ass off. His mogul showdown moves on the opposing pricks were awe-inspiring.

  Hell, I felt a tremendous amount of pride for his white-eyed demonic ways. He’s a business badass with brass balls. I won’t take that away from him. If we’re being completely honest here, his first notable love in life is that of the almighty dollar-dollar bill. That asshole loves the hunt almost as much as he loves the corporate kill.

  It’s true, he’s the better business mogul. He’s the beast of motherfucking Wallstreet. He was the prodigy son. Believe me, I heard Vick’s fucking mouth about the infamous Brogan Creed enough over the years to turn my heated heart to ice.

  No shits are given about Vick’s opinion, zero. That greedy evil asshole got what was coming to him for what he did to Grant Creed, period. Hell, not that I had to, but I reminded Vick on a daily basis that his scheming ways and days were numbered. Brogan saw to that but the one thing that Brogan won’t be able to right is his non-existent presence in Miss. Brealyn Winters’ future, no-no. That’s my rightful place and I want what’s due me.

  Brogan had his chance. I would’ve given that to my kid brother willingly, but he chose differently. I feel it’s my obligation before everything is said and done that, he understands what real-life assets are. Plus, Brealyn is good. She doesn’t deserve the future that awaits her with him.

  The drawback to being a Lone Walker is you only have one soulmate. ONE. That true love burns in you forever. No other will ever quench the thirst or fill the void of the heart that’s coupled with yours. That’s your person until the end of time. There are no replacements for that paired soul. It’s a suffering of the worst kind to Walk alone without it.

  And as Brogan’s older brother, I feel like I offered him a pleasantry he wouldn’t have afforded me. I forewarned him. Being the know-all asshole that he is, he ignored me. Fine, his mistakes will be life-defining, for him of course. As for me, I’m forever grateful for his heartfelt sacrifices. Now it’s time for Miss. Winters’ to open up and welcome me in.

  Fuck A Boardroom Victory.

  I’ll Take The Bedroom Win.

  I’m That Black Sheep Bastard Swooping In.

&nbs
p; I’m The Seed of Sin.

  authors notes

  Hello, My Ruthless-Love Readers,

  Uhmmm… OKAY! I’ve got to be honest here, I love my Creed brothers but my sweet southern belle, Brealyn… Oh, she’s so precious, period. Their story is mind blowing and this is not even a taste of the things that await around the corner.

  My white-eyed, side stripe love for Brogan Creed is no secret… This man has been living a life in my mind ever since I allowed myself to type out my very first book. So, with this knowledge being tossed out there, he’s very much alive and well thriving in my world. If you’ve read my other books then you knew he was coming sooner or later. It was the inevitable.

  With every book I’ve brought before the Wallstreet God, Brogan Creed only continued to grow in size until I had no choice but to set everything else aside. He wouldn’t allow me to push past his story any longer. Even as crazy as this may sound, this guy invades my dreams. He demands my full attention and damned if he doesn’t deserve it too. So…

  Welcome to The House of Creed.

  It’s long overdue that I share this story with you. All I can say is strap in because things are going to get a little, uhm…. How should I say this?... A little Unorthodox. Uncontrolled. Unfortunate.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way, hell no. Thank you for joining me on this crazy ride. Remember to follow me so you stay in the know for the next release coming soon.

  Read below for a peek into the Seed Of Sin.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to give a big shout out to my readers and my social networking scene. Each one of you keep me sane and in the writing game. Your enthusiasm for the characters is what helps me focus on that next creative book.

  Your support is humbling, and I deeply appreciate every single email and kind word sent my way. Also, I want to give an imaginary fist bump to my work fam and DNA bound family tree. You guys deal with me at my craziest. Thanks, and much love.

  To my readers, if you would please take the time to leave a review, I’ll be ever so grateful. Tell me about your thoughts. I crave those tidbits of information. Your opinion, word for word, matters to me, and it’s wholeheartedly appreciated.

  Believe me when I tell you that everything you have to say is carried over into the next creative story that my fingertips type out.

  Read below for a taste of the Seed Of Sin, coming very soon.

  XOXO #RuthlessLove,

  D.M. Burns

  Remember to follow me so you stay in the know for the next release coming soon:

  Website: dmburnsbooks.com

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  The House Of Creed

  Series Reading Order:

  Wallstreet God

  Seed of Sin

  Creed Creation

  SEED:

  The condition or stage of bearing seed.

  SIN:

  An offense against religious or moral law. An action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible. Transgression of the law of God.

  chapter 1

  brealyn

  I’ve often wondered what God’s purpose in this world is for me. Does he have a place carved out with my name in bold letters? A home just for me… Does he have one big worldly map laid out on a massive golden desk in the heavens above with a beautiful landmark picked out already? Is it marked off with a golden pin to remind him of where I’m supposed to be? Will it have a loving foundation filled with warmth and invite me in upon arrival? When do I get to have that life?

  My sweetest little grandmother says that it’s a sin to question God’s plan. But I never really looked at my inquiring mindset in that manner, no. I’m not questioning it so much. Simply put, I’m just curious. There’s a big difference, right?

  Several years back, my heart tugged at me when I happened across a television show that featured him; those eyes took me by surprise. Never in my life did I expect to feel so overwhelmed by the mere sighting of another. It was as if God himself reached down from the gates of glory up above and lightly tapped me on the shoulder then pointed my attention in his direction. Something deep within called out at me. Whispering for me to hold tight, that wonderful things were in the making for me.

  I’m finding myself clinging to my faith that my grandmother made sure was firmly installed from such a young age. Our presence was front row seating every Sunday with me, my gramps, and grammy all decked out in our finest church attire. I loved hearing the choir perform and even though I couldn’t hold a tune, I gave it my best shot. My gramps would pat my head and give me a wink encouraging me to howl out like I was pitch perfect.

  My beliefs are what cements me with a sturdy foundation. Giving me a sense of who I am and where I came from. But here lately, I find myself completely confused and off centered. It’s new territory for me but true none the less. I’ve lived most of my life not allowing anything to shake my core values or muddle my mindset. I was doing good.

  Or at least I was until Brogan Creed. This man has taken over my conscious thoughts managing to filter over and invade my dreams. Either my dreams are torturing me with an unhappily ever after with Brogan being within reach but untouchable, or that little blonde-haired nameless boy is blazing the New York City landscape down around me.

  Those searing iced over eyes carry a lethal amount of hellfire within them that is next level crazy. Even though I know it’s only sandman encounters and not real in the slightest; my anxiety is very much real. My entire reaction is crazy, I know.

  And all of that is successfully throwing me off my paved highway onto uneven ground. I feel as though someone has violently jarred my body rattling my heart lose from its rightful place behind my breastbone. I can’t seem to get control over my emotions long enough to make sense of anything. Between the sleepless nights and my body rejecting the taste of food, I’m a walking zombie living off my coffee intake. Hoping for the numbness to sweep in dulling all my senses.

  Brogan’s touch has become my greatest haunting. A familiar century-old house that contains a nightly ghost with a reluctant and random appearance. Filtering through the hallways of my psyche. Keeping tabs on my whereabouts and delighting in the thriller show. Acting out in the most horrible ways; taunting and teasing me. Tearing down my mental stability with unspoken promises of return. Ultimately leaving me to question if I’m slowly losing my sanity as well as everything I was ever taught about faith.

  I bite down on my bottom lip as I weave in between the sidewalk bodies surrounding me trying to hold the tears back from falling. As my grandmother would say, this too shall pass young lady-just believe.

  Leaving that New Year’s Eve party with shaky limbs and an unstable grasp on my mental stability pretty much sums up how I’m feeling at this moment. My go-to cure can be found at the nearest convenient store though. I’m going to stock myself up with some Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia and bring in this New Year with an additional five pounds on my rear end. My resolution will be to have a Badonkadonk. Oh, crap… The lyrics “I like big butts and I cannot lie” is playing out in my head now… Whatever…

  “Hey, sunshine… Brealyn… Wait up.”

  When I hear that voice over my shoulder. I freeze in my tracks. This is great. JUST GREAT. Slightly defeated, I turn and come face to face with a larger but more laidback version of a thawed-out Brogan Creed. Like I needed that reminder right now. Heck, his finger impressions are still fresh and felt on each side of my hips. Plus, the whisper of his lips on mine tingles with a faint everlasting aftereffect.

  I’m beginning to believe that at some point, it’d be best if I could go numb. Sorta like the cold winter weather here in New York is turning my limbs right about now. My hands, nose, and toes feel like ice cubes. Could it move to the core of my heart?

  Channing’s smile is widespread and a much-welcomed balm to my rejected heart though. Immediately,
I retract my country kitten claws replacing it with a fake smile. Reminding myself that it’s not Channing’s fault that his brother is an ignorant butthole with crap-tastic taste in selecting frigid females looking to climb his money tree while stroking his main branch.

  “Hey… You look really nice.” I motion my hand up and down at his fancy attire.

  Channing is a seriously beefed-up beautiful business decision. Half the women in passing are turning their heads over their shoulders to get a second glance at the sexy that he exudes. I don’t blame them. The man is fancy but refined with a side of trickery lacing his features. His body reminds me of Gerard Butler in the movie 300 but on steroids, yeah-that.

  “Nothing even close to the vision in front of me. By the way, thanks for the dozen cupcakes you left for me on Christmas day. Those tasty treats from the Cupcake Café can’t be topped and I annihilated them in one go.” He flashes me a wink. I knew he’d appreciate the scrumptious cakes. The guy likes food, a lot. The wind decides to pick up cutting straight through to my bones and I inch my coat tighter around my body.

  “Well, I wanted you to know you were thought of,” I say between my chattering teeth.

  His eyes crinkle at the corners slightly and he studies me a moment before speaking again. I hate that he and Brogan are so stubborn when it comes to mending the brotherly bridge. They just need a little bit of help crossing over. I know I should mind my own business, but I know in my heart that they just need a loving shove in the right direction.

  “What I can’t figure out is how you knew where I lived?”