The Devoted Husband

by B. Love

Genres: Psychological Thrillers

Synopsis

When obsession meets revenge, no one is safe in this gripping new sequel to The Loyal Wife by national bestselling author B. Love.

A dangerous obsession. Simmering tensions. Twisted vendettas . . .

Detective Jones is back on the scene, obsessed with bringing down Sade for multiple murders. But his relentless pursuit masks a shocking personal connection that drives his thirst for catching her far beyond the bounds of justice.

Meanwhile, Sade is carrying Dante’s baby and is entangled with Atlas—the man responsible for Dante’s accident and amnesia. As Atlas’s behavior grows increasingly erratic and threatening, Sade must decide whether to run or fight.

As Sade finds her way back to Dante, their newfound happiness is threatened as Jones closes in with evidence that could tear their world apart. Now, they must decide how far they’ll go to protect their love and each other. But no one’s hands stay clean for long in this deadly game of cat and mouse. It is now Dante’s time to prove that his devotion knows no limits . . . even if it means adding to the body count.

“B. Love blurs the line between devotion and destruction in this heart-pounding sequel. Every time I thought I had it figured out, another twist sent me spiraling. If you love gripping thrillers with high stakes and unforgettable characters, this one is a must-read!” —K.C. Mills, USA Today bestselling author of Innocent Intent

Release date: June 24, 2025

Publisher: Black Odyssey Media

Print pages: 288

Sample

Detective Jones

July

The only sound that could be heard in the car was the flicker of Jones’s lighter as he lit his cigarette. His eyes were zeroed in on Dante Williams, watching his every move. It had been a while since Jones felt so invested in a case. The murders of Patrice Baker and Trina Roe haunted him. Willow Frank was still missing, and Jones couldn’t rest until he found her. There was no doubt in his mind that Sade was responsible for all three—he just had to find a way to prove it.

So far, they had hair from the scene of Patrice’s murder and a few drops of blood from Trina’s. Neither the hair nor the blood had a DNA match in their system. Unfortunately, Patrice’s murder was ruled a robbery gone bad, and the case was closed because they didn’t have any more evidence. Jones’s gut was telling him it was no robbery at all. That the murder was intentional and the reason the intruder, Sade, was there to begin with. His captain may have wanted him to drop the case, but Jones wouldn’t—not until there was justice for all three women.

Jones had been keeping a close eye on Sade and Dante. The more he learned about them, the more convinced he was that Sade had committed these murders because she was trying to keep Dante’s identity hidden. It wasn’t a coincidence that multiple murders happened in the small town of Vanzette when Dante arrived. Even with Sade trying to keep him hidden, Dante had become a link attached to Patrice, Trina, and Willow just like she was. If Dante wasn’t involved with their murders, he had to have knowledge of them. Jones refused to believe Sade had carried out two murders and a possible kidnapping by herself.

While he had no proof Willow was alive, Jones assumed she was since her body hadn’t popped up. And until her body was found, he was convinced he still had time to save her.

A part of Jones was at peace to learn Sade and Dante were leaving town. That meant the murders would stop if Sade were actually behind them. He would have preferred they stopped because she was in prison, though. Even with her leaving, Jones would still work the cases until he got the answers he sought.

Dante looked around casually before tossing three black bags into the small body of water behind the house.

“Hmm.” Sitting up in his seat, Jones set his cigarette in the ashtray. “What are you getting rid of?”

Jones watched as Dante jogged back toward the shed. Something important was in those bags. Something worth hiding. But what? Jones itched to fish them out, but anything he found would be inadmissible in court without a warrant.

Cursing under his breath, Jones waited until Dante left the house for what appeared to be the last time. He alternated between wanting to check the house and the shed or letting it go. Technically, he would be trespassing. The law made it hard to break the rules at times.

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, unlocking his car. “I’m going in.”

Casually, Jones made his way down and across the street. He wasted no time picking the lock and entering the home. It was empty and immaculately clean. As he headed into the backyard toward the shed, a medium-sized moving truck pulled into the front of the house. Cursing under his breath, he looked around for a place to hide. As spaced out as the homes were, the open space between the homes was blocked by a few trees.

Deciding not to hide, Jones walked toward the two men who had hopped out of the truck.

“Hey, do either of you know where I can find the owners of this house?” Jones asked, looking from one to the other. “I want to look inside. Thinkin’ about moving into this neighborhood.”

The movers looked at each other.

The taller, leaner one of the two shook his head and was the first to speak up. “No, we haven’t seen them since yesterday. We just have to clear out the shed, and then we’ll be done.”

“I think the realtor’s number is on the sign in the yard,” the other mover spoke. “You might need to just speak directly to them.”

With one bob of his head and a forced smile, Jones thanked them both before heading down the street toward the car. Instead of driving off, he watched as they cleared the shed of typical things one would find there—tools, a lawn mower, chairs.

Suddenly, his phone rang, pulling his attention away from the men doing their job.

“Jones,” he answered, not bothering to look and see who it was.

“Uh, hi. This is Amanda Baker . . . Patrice’s mom. You called and left me a voicemail.”

“Oh yes. Yes, Mrs. Baker. Thanks for returning my call. I was wondering if I could stop by and talk to you for a moment.”

“You’re the detective who was over her case, you said?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on. The case was closed, right? Has it been reopened?”

“It hasn’t, not officially.”

“Detective Jones, we’re still grieving the loss of our daughter. It’s traumatizing going over the details repeatedly without it leading to anything. We’ve told you and other detectives everything we know about what was going on with our daughter around the time of the robbery. We have nothing else to offer.”

“I’m not looking for answers from you; I actually have information to give.”

“Do you have a suspect in the robbery?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t think it was a robbery. That information was classified and won’t be shared now that the case is closed, but you deserve to know. Is your husband home? If I could just speak to you in person, this would all make sense.”

“I-I guess you can come over.”

After Amanda rattled off their address, Jones put it into his GPS and headed that way. It was wearing on him to work his cases with the Vanzette Police Department along with the trio of women on his off days, but bringing Sade to justice would make the sacrifice worth it. She may have left town, but she’d forever be on his radar. There was nowhere she could run and not be within his reach.

Jones

Pictures of Patrice as a child made Jones’s heart ache. In almost every photo of her on the fireplace and walls, she was smiling—happy. The light in her eyes began to dim as she aged. There were three pictures of her while she was in high school that Jones took pictures of with his phone. He knew about her connection to Imani, but seeing Patrice in a cheerleader outfit beside her made things all too real.

Turning, he looked at Amanda, whose smile was sad as she watched him. Her husband, Elliot, seemed more hardened to the situation than his wife. Still, Jones appreciated them opening their home to him. He made his way over to the brown leather recliner beside the sofa they were seated on. Amanda took Elliot’s hand into hers as he sat down and pulled out his small notebook.

“My wife said you don’t believe this was a robbery-homicide,” Elliot said, sitting up in his seat.

“No, I don’t. Originally, we believed the robber or robbers were hiding in Patrice’s car, and because she came out quicker than they expected, they killed her and left before they could take anything.”

“What makes you think that is no longer the case?” Elliot continued.

“Well, for starters, it was daylight. Vanzette is a fairly safe and crimefree town. We hadn’t had many murders before this year, and we haven’t had multiple murders in the same year in a while. I don’t think it’s plausible that someone was trying to rob your daughter during the day and then killed her when they were caught. If that’s the case, I believe it was a drifter passing through town looking for money or jewels to pawn before their next stop. Even so, they wouldn’t have left without taking something.”

“So, you have no proof that this wasn’t a robbery gone bad. Just an assumption?”

“Not quite. Patrice had connections to another woman who was murdered shortly after her. I don’t believe that was a coincidence.”

“Who was the other woman?” Amanda asked.

“Trina Roe. Is that name familiar to either of you?” Amanda’s head shook as Elliot gave a firm no. “What about Willow Frank?”

“Neither one,” Amanda answered. “But it’s not a surprise. We didn’t know too many of Patrice’s friends as she aged. She worked a lot and didn’t go out too much, but there were a few women she would hang with occasionally.”

“Imani Williams.” He paused. “She would have been Imani Griffin while in school with your daughter. Do either of you remember her?” Jones asked, getting comfortable in the recliner.

“She was one of Patrice’s closest friends while they were in high school and college,” Amanda replied. “Has something happened to her too?”

Chuckling, Jones crossed his ankles. “I guess you could say that. She was recently sent to federal prison for several crimes, including credit fraud.”

Gasping, Amanda clutched her chest. “Not little Imani. She seemed to have such a bright future ahead of herself.”

Elliot sucked his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not surprised. I always felt like she was a bad influence. That’s why I was glad Patrice moved here and didn’t continue their friendship after college.”

Amanda’s eyes rolled as Jones requested, “Tell me more about why you believed Imani was a bad influence.”

“She brought out the ugly in my daughter. Patrice’s attitude completely changed when they started hanging out. She was no longer my bubbly, innocent child. Patrice became catty, bitter, and downright mean.”

“They were accused of being bullies,” Amanda added. “The fights Patrice got in, Imani was often the center of them. I thought Patrice was trying to be a good friend, but Elliot believed Imani was getting Patrice into trouble and that she needed to stay away from her.”

“Did you know Imani’s sister . . . Sade?” Jones asked.

“I don’t think so, no,” Elliot replied, looking at his wife. “Do you recall Patrice ever mentioning Sade?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Maybe vaguely.” Amanda laughed softly. “It’s been so long.”

“I understand,” Jones said. “I’m asking because I have reason to believe Imani and Sade were involved with Patrice’s murder.” He paused, giving them time to register what he’d said. “Patrice and Sade were not friends in high school. I believe that Sade was one of the girls Patrice and Imani bullied.”

“Wait,” Elliot chortled before licking his lips. “Why would Imani bully her own sister?”

“That’s a conversation for another day. What I can say is that Imani admitted to the toxic relationship she had with her sister and that Patrice was a part of that. Now, Patrice and Sade came back into contact with each other earlier this year. I don’t have proof, but I believe Patrice was murdered because she knew about a secret Sade was keeping from her sister.”

“What secret could have been worth taking my child’s life?” Amanda asked.

“I’m not sure if you kept up with the news a couple of months ago, but a man was killed after breaking into a Vanzette resident’s home and trying to rape her . . .”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Elliot replied.

“That was Sade. The man who broke in was her sister’s boyfriend, Adam. Adam was on his way here to kill Dante, Imani’s husband.” The couple’s confused and surprised expressions made him smile. “You heard that right. She had a husband and boyfriend. Now, the husband was missing. Turns out he had amnesia and had been in Vanzette the whole time with Sade.

“I don’t know if he really had amnesia or if that was a lie, but that’s his story to justify leaving Memphis while the police were looking for him. Anyway, Sade was helping Dante after his accident and while he had amnesia. I believe that’s why she killed your daughter. I believe Sade didn’t want anyone to know Dante was here with her, and Patrice found out. Because they all went to school together, Patrice knew Dante was considered missing in Memphis. So Sade killed her to keep her quiet.”

“Do you have any proof of this? If there’s a suspect, why is the case still closed?” Elliot asked.

“I don’t have any actual proof yet. There was hair in the car that didn’t belong to Patrice, but we didn’t get a DNA match. Even if we did, any good defense lawyer could argue the hair belonged to someone who had been in the car with Patrice and not to the murderer.”

Amanda shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand why Sade would keep her brother-in-law hidden from her sister and go as far as killing someone to do it, even if she didn’t have the best relationship with our daughter.”

“It’s my understanding that Dante was facing the charges Imani was recently convicted of. If so, that’s motive for murder—protecting him. Also, I did a little research and learned Imani’s boyfriend tried to have Dante killed, which is how he ended up with amnesia. If Sade believed Dante was in danger in Memphis, she wouldn’t want anyone to know where he was.”

“So if Patrice found out, there is a chance Sade would try to silence her,” Elliot said.

“Exactly,” Jones replied.

Again, Amanda shook her head as she stood and began to pace. Wringing her fingers, she clicked her tongue.

“I can’t accept that without proof. I want to know who did this to my daughter and why, but this seems like something in a movie. If Sade really killed Patrice, I need you to be able to prove it. Until then, I can’t accept this.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Jones said. “I know Sade killed your daughter. I feel it in my gut. I might not have all the proof and details now, but I know this is the truth.” Standing, he added, “Keep this under wraps for now. Sade has left town and if she knows I’m still looking into this, she won’t return. But I promise I will get the answers you need.”

They both thanked him before Jones made his way out and headed to the house of Trina Roe’s parents . . . determined to connect the dots and paint a picture that showed him exactly what happened to both women and why.

Sade

August

“This is our last night here. How do you feel?” A soft smile tugged at the corners of Dante’s lips as he looked down at Sade.

Sade relaxed more against his frame, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers. Dancing with him was probably her favorite thing to do . . . outside of making love to him.

“I feel hopeful. Tomorrow is the start of our new lives. How do you feel?”

“Relieved.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I’m finally with the girl of my dreams.”

Sade’s eyes playfully rolled as she tried to pull herself out of Dante’s grasp, but he held her closer—tighter.

“Spare me, Dante.”

He chuckled. “Why don’t you believe I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Smiley?”

“Because you friend zoned me and got with my sister.”

“I didn’t friend zone you. We just didn’t date back in the day. And Imani . . . that just happened. I never should have let it. That’s probably my biggest regret in life.” Dante placed a kiss on the center of Sade’s forehead. “Even if I had never worked up the courage to go after you and risk our friendship, I never should’ve gotten with your sister.”

Sade’s hands slid down his chest. It didn’t seem to matter now. Imani was in prison, and after decades, Sade finally had her man . . . even if it was temporary.

They continued their sway before pigging out on Chinese food. The relaxed, intimate moment seemed like the perfect way to end their time in Vanzette and, unbeknownst to Dante, their time with each other.

Sade’s thoughts were so clouded by memories of her time with Dante that she forgot where she was and who she was with. The feel of fingers grazing her cheek pulled her out of her thoughts. But they weren’t Atlas’s fingers. Her eyes shifted to the left, where a man stared at her with a grin on the opposite side of the escalator.

“Damn, you fine.”

Before Sade could calculate a response, Atlas grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him onto their escalator.

“Atlas, no!” she whisper-yelled, watching as he dragged the man down the escalator.

If this indicated how things would go between them during their time in Memphis, Sade already wanted to return to her island.

“Stop!” she yelled, tugging at Atlas’s neck. The action didn’t seem to faze him as he repeatedly punched the man in his face. “Are you trying to get put on the no-fly list? Get up!”

“Hey!”

At the sound of security, Sade tried one last time before deciding she’d leave him there.

“Atlas! Get your butt up! We have to go!”

Tugging with all her might, she was able to remove him from the unconscious man’s body. They rushed out of the airport. Sade wasn’t sure if the run or her anger had her heart racing as they jumped into Atlas’s car. Before she could stop herself, she slapped him.

“What is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind?”

Sucking his teeth, Atlas swerved out of the parking space. “He disrespected me and touched you, so he had to pay for that.”

Rolling her eyes, Sade stared out of the window. She hoped they could pay for parking and leave without further issues. This was yet another example of the stark difference between Atlas and Dante.

Sade trusted Dante and knew he could defend himself and protect others. He also had a clearer head and wasn’t easily swayed by his emotions. On the other hand, Atlas was quick-tempered and could become volatile quickly. There was no doubt in her mind that the only reason he was okay with her being with Dante for months was because they weren’t in Memphis. Things would have gone differently if he had witnessed the affection between the two.

There was a time Sade thought Atlas’s possessiveness and anger were cute . . . passion, even. But those days and that perspective faded the moment a man’s perusal of her body or harmless compliments led to arguments and fights. One time, she called him insecure, and the darkness that filled his eyes before he punched a hole in the wall beside her was something Sade would never forget.

With Sade, he’d always been romantic and sweet. It hadn’t mattered that he was volatile and violent. Now, with a baby in her womb, Sade wondered if she’d made the wrong choice to return to him.



Hours later . . .

Atlas placed kisses along Sade’s neck that softened her toward him. Her body arched, making more room for his as she smiled.

“Does this mean you’re calm now?” she confirmed.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. He touched you, and I saw red.”

With a sigh, Sade turned in his arms. She was in the bathroom doing her makeup. They were supposed to go to his parents’ home for dinner . . . which was the last thing she wanted to do. Still, she put her desires aside to please Atlas because she knew how important family was to him. There was a time when family was important to her as well—until her parents died and her sister became a terror.

“I won’t deny that he was wrong for touching me, but that wasn’t the way to handle it, baby. If you had gotten stopped and put on the no-fly list, who would I travel with to see the world? Not to mention, you could have gotten arrested. Then that would have been yet another reason for your family to hate me.”

Atlas licked his lips, hiding his smile. “They don’t hate you, Day.”

“They do, and you know it.”

His lips went from her forehead to her lips and neck. “They don’t hate you. They just . . . hate how things played out.” Sade pouted, her head lowering slightly. Atlas lifted it by her chin, gently forcing her to look into his eyes. “Hey, I love you, okay? I don’t care what they think. I’m happy with you, and that’s all that matters.”

Except, that wasn’t all that mattered. If it were, Atlas wouldn’t shut down every time his family expressed their disdain for Sade being the reason Adam had been killed. It didn’t matter how many times he told them Adam was killed while trying to rape her and shoot the police. In their minds, it was Sade’s fault.

“Okay,” Sade agreed softly, still unable to tell him she loved him too. The truth was, her heart was too busy reserving love for the father of her child.

“How much longer will you need in. . .