Chapter 1: Gangster's Priest
A priest bound by vows. A gangster woman who doesn’t believe in restraint. When Gabriel Libra meets Scarlett Hayes in a quiet courtyard, her brazen words unravel his sanctity one breath at a time. What begins as teasing turns into temptation — and temptation into surrender. In a world where faith trembles beneath desire, how long can a man resist the devil herself?
The courtyard was quiet, save for the whisper of wind through the stone arches. Gabriel Libra sat alone on the bench, golden hair catching the light like threads of fire. His robes — white and gold, immaculate — marked him as a priest. Yet his posture, the way his fingers trembled against his lap, betrayed something more fragile: a man who doubted, who longed.
Scarlett Hayes leaned against the shadows, watching him. A gangster by name and nature, she was no stranger to danger, but this man was different. He was temptation wrapped in sanctity. She raised her phone, silent, and captured him in that moment — ethereal, human, breakable.
“Did you just… take a photo of me?” Gabriel’s voice was soft, but edged with surprise. His hazel eyes met hers, and for a heartbeat, the priest seemed less divine, more mortal.
Scarlett smirked, stepping closer. “Yes, sir. May I keep it? You look so beautiful.” She turned the phone to show him, the image glowing between them.
He leaned in, cheeks flushing. “I… suppose you can keep it. You think I look… good?” His voice faltered, betraying the cracks in his composure.
Scarlett sat beside him looking at the picture, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Long blonde hair, elegant robes… but sitting like a human. That’s what makes you beautiful. Would love to draw this.”
Gabriel chuckled softly, folding his hands tighter. “Keep the photo… if it brings you peace. But if you draw me, don’t make me divine. I am no saint — only a man who prays often and doubts much.”
Scarlett’s lips curled. “Your perfection makes me want to pin you down in my art. So yeah… that’s what I’ll do.”
The priest’s breath caught. “Pin me down… in your art?” His composure wavered, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned his gaze to the horizon, but the words lingered between them, heavy with implication.
Scarlett leaned closer, her voice low, teasing. “Your beauty needs to be marked. Not with paint… but with red.”
Gabriel flinched, fingers tightening in his lap. “I am not for marking. Not with paint… not with red.” His voice cracked, trembling between denial and desire. “Your words… go beyond art now.”
Scarlett’s grin widened. “I can chase. In art and out of it.”
The priest sputtered, scandalized. “Chase? You are not afraid? Not intimidated?”
Scarlett’s reply was brazen, shameless. “For me, you look like an ice cream. And I want to lick it… suck it… eat it. Exactly how an ice cream is eaten.”
Gabriel’s composure shattered. “You are… outrageous.” His cheeks burned crimson, his lips twitching between laughter and horror. “An ice cream? I—”
Scarlett leaned in, whispering against his ear. “My favorite’s vanilla. And you look like one. This vanilla sitting beside me needs cherries on his skin.”
Gabriel nearly choked, his fingers twisting his robe. “Ch-Cherries?” His voice cracked, his body trembling with scandalized amusement. Yet he didn’t move away. He didn’t leave.
Scarlett’s eyes gleamed. “Do you want me to be brazen about the first thing that came to mind when I first looked at you?”
Gabriel swallowed hard. “Yes. Be honest.”
Scarlett’s voice dropped, sultry and unashamed. “Even as a woman, I wanted to top you. To ride you while you moan beneath me.”
The priest’s composure shattered completely. “You can’t just… say that…” His face burned, his breath ragged. Yet beneath the scandal, something dangerous flickered: longing.
Scarlett pressed further, relentless. “So… will you fuck me or not?”
Gabriel’s hands trembled, his voice hoarse. “I should walk away. I should say no.” He looked at her, eyes glistening with guilt and desire. “But you make it… very hard to be good.”
Scarlett leaned back, smirking. “Being good isn’t possible. Humans are born with flaws. Don’t restrict yourself so much.”
Gabriel’s voice cracked, fragile. “You would really have me break every vow… just to sleep with you?”
Scarlett’s answer was merciless. “Yes.”
The silence that followed was heavier than any cathedral bell. Gabriel stared at her, at the brazen gangster who spoke of gods and sins as if they were jokes, who compared him to vanilla and cherries, who dared to strip him of his sanctity with nothing but words. And yet… she was right. His heart had already changed. His body had already betrayed him.
He whispered, almost to himself: “What if my heart has already changed?”
Scarlett’s hand brushed his, bold and unashamed. “Then stop hiding. Live. Do what you want. After all, we’re going to die someday.”
Gabriel’s composure shattered. His hands, once folded in prayer, reached for her. Trembling fingers grazed her cheek, then pulled back as if burned. “I swore an oath,” he muttered, voice breaking. “I am a man of the cloth. I can’t just—”
Scarlett silenced him with a kiss. Fierce. Demanding. Her lips pressed against his, tasting of sin and salvation all at once. Gabriel froze, his body rigid, his mind screaming. But then… he melted. His lips parted, his breath mingled with hers, and the world fell away.
The priest groaned, low and guttural, as her hands slid beneath his robe. “You’re trembling,” Scarlett teased, her voice husky. “Is that guilt… or desire?”
“Both,” Gabriel admitted, his voice hoarse. “God forgive me…”
Scarlett laughed softly, wickedly. “God already knows. And if He’s benevolent, He’ll forgive a man trembling to want sex.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened, scandalized. “You… you are the devil herself,” he whispered, half in horror, half in awe. His words trembled, but his hands betrayed him, gripping her tighter. “You tempt me… like Lucifer himself.”
Scarlett’s smirk deepened. “Then let me be your devil. And you… my fallen angel.”
The words broke him. Gabriel’s breath caught, his body trembling as he rose from the bench. “Not here,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “If I… if I do this… it cannot be in the open.”
Scarlett’s hand slid into his, pulling him toward the church’s side door. “Then take me to your room, Father.”
The walk was silent, heavy with anticipation. Gabriel’s robe swayed with each step, his heart pounding like a drum of war. He led her through narrow halls, past sacred relics that seemed to watch in judgment, until they reached his chamber — a modest room with a bed, a desk, and a single candle flickering against the wall.
Scarlett pushed him inside, closing the door behind them. “Now,” she whispered, her voice dripping with hunger. “No more hiding.”
Gabriel’s hands trembled as he reached for her, pulling her against him. His lips crashed onto hers, desperate, hungry, sinful. The robe fell away, exposing the man beneath the priest. Scarlett straddled him, her gangster’s dominance overwhelming his restraint.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered, biting his lip. “No more vows.”
Gabriel groaned, his body surrendering completely. “God forgive me,” he gasped, his voice breaking with every touch. “I can’t… I can’t stop…”
Scarlett’s reply was merciless. Again. “Don’t stop. Live. Feel. Sin with me.”
And he did. He surrendered completely, his body breaking beneath the weight of desire. His moans filled the chamber, mingling with hers, echoing against the stone walls like a forbidden hymn. Every thrust was a confession, every gasp a prayer, every climax a surrender to the sin he had feared and craved.
When it was over, Gabriel lay trembling, his hair disheveled, his body marked with Scarlett’s kisses. His hazel eyes glistened with guilt and satisfaction, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
Scarlett leaned over him, her gangster’s smirk softened into something almost tender. “See? Not so divine. Just a man who tries.”
Gabriel closed his eyes, whispering: “Maybe… that is its own kind of holiness.”
Scarlett kissed him again, slow and lingering. “Then stop fighting it. You’re mine now, Gabriel. Priest or not.”
And for the first time in his life, Gabriel Libra didn’t pray for forgiveness. He prayed for more.
