A/N: Okay, I know I was supposed to take a break from Fanfiction but I couldn't help myself. I just love writing and interacting with you guys too much to give it up even for a short time. I think that this is my best work to date. I'm also thinking about doing an alternate ending with it. Let me knows what you think about that. I'd also like to thank my friend Abu for his support and help with planning and executing this story. He didn't want credit but I'm giving it to him anyway. So, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Deadly Sins

Chapter 1: Enticement

"Here." I winced a bit as my wife practically threw my breakfast at me. The plate banged hard against the solid wood of the table. She silently stormed off into the living room leaving me to grimace at her questionable meal. What the hell does she call this? I peer closely at the plate. The eggs are still runny, the yolks are popped, the toast is burnt and she completely left out the best part, the bacon. Jesus Christ, it's been like this for over a month now. She's obviously distracted by something.

I slide the plate across the table putting as much distance between us and stand up. Enough is enough. I straighten my tie and turn to head into the living room only to bump into Trish. She stumbles backward and I grab her arm in time to prevent her from falling over.

"Shit, John. Fucking kill me, why won't you." Her face is contorted into her usual scorn. When we first met her eyes were bright. They shined. Her teeth always shown, her cheeks pinched together from the constant smiling and giggling. God, I can't even remember the last time I saw her smile. It's been ages. I look into her now-dead eyes and shake my head in disbelief. What happened to her?

"What? You have something to say, say it." She snaps at me. If she were a hungry predator, I'd be decapitated by now. An image of a praying mantis pops into my minds eye. I remember being a kid in school. The teacher told us that the female mantis ate the male after mating. Yep, that sounds like Trish alright. I wouldn't be surprised if she was planning some heinous act against me. She doesn't even seem to love me let alone like me.

"Why are you always so angry? I haven't done a damn thing to you." I reply right back. If she wants to bark, I can bark back. She's no match for me. She arches a brow and crosses her arms across her chest giving me her famous 'I'm not backing down' stance. Okay, on second thought, maybe I've bitten off a little more than I could chew. She's a feisty one.

"Excuse me?" She slowly licks her bottom lip. I know that gesture. She's daring me to fight back. I've been on the wrong end of enough of her bitch fits to know when the storm is gonna hit. No thanks, I don't need that stress this morning. Let's take a step back and talk. I've seen this warning far too many times and I know when to back down.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just..." I rattle my brain for the right words. The words that won't get my head ripped off. "You're just... you're different. You're not the same Trish I fell in love with." She cocks her head to one side. "Don't get offended, it's true. You don't do your hair anymore. You just throw it in a pony tail and go. You don't use make-up anymore. You lost your culinary skills. You don't do the dishes and when you do they're still dirty. Yesterday you messed up my favorite shirt when you did the laundry. I'm not trying to criticize you. So don't take this all the wrong way. I just wanna know what's wrong. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me about..."

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Cena." She challenges me back. I sigh in frustration. She hunches over the kitchen sink with her chest heaving.

"Trish, listen, baby, I'm not trying to fight with you." I place a hand on her shoulder to reinforce that I was on her side. She knocks my hand away as quick as I touch her.

"Hey, no need to be so defensive. I just... I just want my wife back. I want the woman I fell in love with back. Is it something I did or said? I..."

"Not everything is about you. I have my own shit to figure out. If you want good food you know how to cook it yourself. Do your own damn laundry, wash your own dishes, and stop criticizing me." She pushes past me ramming her shoulder into my arm in the process. She dashes out into the back yard and I roll my eyes. What the hell is wrong with her? Any other woman would have thought my approach was picture perfect. But not Trish. Nope, nothing I do for her is good enough. I don't need this shit from her. I'm going to work and away from her.

I grab my car keys and head out into the drive way. I hop into my SUV and start the engine. I take a deep breath trying to clear my mind of my wife's bullshit. We've only been married 5 years and already it's crumbling. She only became 30 this year and already she's acting like a middle-aged menopausal woman. She's still young. She shouldn't be acting like this. I never did anything to her to deserve this shit. I glance into the back yard and catch a glimpse of her sitting in the rocking chair on the patio. She has her hands over her face sulking.

I can't help but feel bad for her. She has been through a lot the past few years. She's been laid off of work, lost her childhood best friend Betty, her dog of the past 10 years died, and we suffered a miscarriage. But it's been at least 2 years since the miscarriage. Nothing bad has happened since. I mean, yeah it sucks but she can't just wallow in her own depression for the rest of her life. It hurt me too but I got over it. We could have had a family but she's the one who refused it. I wanted to try again but she is the one who denied me. So if she's miserable it's her own fault.

Deny. The word leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I know it all too well. Hell, it's the only thing I've been getting consistently from Trish. Denial. She hasn't let me touch her in at least 2 months. I try to be intimate and she just pushes me away. It's not like I'm not trying. I'm trying to be good to her. I'm trying to be the husband I've always been. But dammit, she's making it hard. She's cold. She's stoic. She won't let me in. It's like she's built a wall up and locked me out.

After all that we've been through, I thought she'd at least give me a reason as to why she's treating me like dirt. But instead she yells at me. I peek back at her once more and her position hasn't changed a bit. She's still moping around. A person can only be helped if they are willing to let someone help them. Trish obviously doesn't want help and I'm not pushing the issue anymore. I give up.

I arrive to the office on time; for once. I walk through the foyer and smile upon seeing Angela at the reception desk. "Lovely as always, Angie." I tap on her desk with a finger. She looks up from her computer screen and smiles right back.

"Thank-you, Mr. Cena. Have you been able to look over the Rook case yet?" Shit, I completely forgot. This whole thing with Trish is making me lose sight of my job. I'm a lawyer and dammit, I'm the best this city has ever seen. I can't let Trish prevent me from serving these criminals their well-deserved punishments.

"Uh, no. Not yet. I'll check it when I get in. Thanks for reminding me. See, this is why I'm giving you a raise." Angela is the best receptionist I've ever had. She just had a baby and barely took any maternity leave. I even paid for her leave so she could have the appropriate amount of time to recuperate but she came back in just a week and a half. She has the best work ethic I've ever seen. She deserves a raise. A big one. "How's 30 an hour sound?" I watch with amusement as her face dances with hope and surprise.

"Seriously? That's double what I make now. I..." She stumbles over her words.

"Angie, you're the best employee I have. I need you. I'm willing to pay you anything if it means you stick around. Think of it as a little gift from me to you." I grin and she opens her mouth to reply. I can tell that she's stunned. Just a small gargle comes out. She clears her throat and tries again.

"Thank-you so much, Mr. Cena. I appreciate it..."

"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. You've earned it." Ah. I inhale deeply. My morning has just made a total spin around. Trish ruined it and Angela saved it. I feel good giving her that raise. She needs it more than anyone. I turn to head into my office when a young petite blonde steps out of the elevator. Deja vu. My God. She's stunning. She struts toward me wearing a tight silk black dress. 6 inch black heels. Her platinum hair bounces with every step. Her figure sways back and forth. Her long, lengthy, flawless legs taunt me. Her make-up is perfect. Just like the first time I saw Trish.

I climb out of the bus and stand at the corner waiting for the light to turn red. The rain pours down. I can't believe I forgot my umbrella. The bus pulls away revealing the other side of the road. A car races down the street splashing dirty water onto a woman. She throws her hands up in disgust before letting them fall back down with a laugh.

My heart skips a beat. She's wearing a tight black dress and high heels. Her hair is curled down to her shoulder and her make-up smears just a tiny bit from the rain. Even after the splashing she looks perfect. Any other woman would have been scornful and full of hate for being splashed with mud. But not her. She laughed it off. That's the kind of woman I need in my life. Someone optimistic. Someone who can bring me up when I'm feeling down.

She shoots me a toothy grin as I cross the street toward her in a daze. "Beautiful day, huh?" She winks at me. Oh God, and she's sarcastic. I rattle my mind for a reply and can't find one. Instead I chuckle like a moron. "Don't worry. I like 'em nervous." She winks once more before flicking her hair towards me. I inhale deeply taking in her scent. Roses. My sinus melts as she hurries off across the street. I smirk. And so the chase is on. I follow after her.

It's happening all over again. She struts towards me and I hold my breath. Everything about this woman screams 'Young Trish'. She's wearing a black dress like Trish was. Black heels. The same natural-looking make-up. Even wearing her hair the same way. Angela stands up at her desk with a warm friendly smile. "Maryse, I assume?" Angela holds her hand out to the gorgeous woman in front of me. I haven't been able to take my eyes off of her. She's mesmerizing.

"At your service." The woman known as Maryse curtsies as she shakes Angela's hand. That accent. What is it? I've never heard anything like it before. It's music to my ears.

"I'd like to thank-you for choosing our firm. I'm sure you've heard that we have a 90% conviction rate. We're very serious about bringing justice to the families and victims. Mr. Cena has, himself, successfully convicted 297 criminals. He's the best prosecutor in the state of New York." Maryse eyes me up and down as Angie sings my praises. "Maryse has just graduated law school and is finishing her training with us as an intern. She had the best grades of her graduating class. A 4.2 to be exact." Wow. Sexy and smart. Oh Jesus, where are my manners?

I extend my hand to hers. "It's nice to meet you. I'm John Cena." She shakes my hand as she stares directly into my eyes. I can read something in her intense stare that I can't quite pin point.

"Charmed." She flashes her pearly whites and my heart melts at the sound of her voice.

"What kind of accent is that? I've never heard it before." I know it's probably not the best first impression to make but I can't help it. I'm entranced by her accent and need to know where it comes from.

"French Canadian. I'm from Montreal." Her words slide off of her tongue with ease. I could listen to her talk all day.

"Mr. Cena, here are the questions required by the board to ask." She hands me a formal-looking piece of paper. "Maryse, dear, go on with Mr. Cena to his office. Good-luck." Angela takes a seat back at her desk.

"Thanks Angela. You've been a real help. I hope that raise is good to you." I turn and head towards my office as Maryse follows me. I open the heavy wooden door and step aside so Maryse can take a step in first. My eyes immediately fall to her behind. I take it all in. That nice, little tight ass. I wonder what it feels like... I'm tempted to reach out and see for myself. The door slams behind me pulling me out of my daze.

"Please, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable." I walk around her to have a seat at my desk. She places her purse up on my desk and I notice the brand. Gucci? Trish has tried to buy enough of these for me to know one when I see it. That's a genuine Gucci purse. Those things run up to more than a thousand bucks. "Gucci?" I ask hoping to steer the conversation to it.

She crosses her legs in a sexy way and I watch. Leg over leg. I get a passing glimpse of something black up her dress. I can feel my heart beat a little faster. Holy shit. That was her thong. My stomach flutters.

"Yeah, it is. Thanks for noticing." She smiles across the table at me. I quickly advert my eyes from her thighs and fix them on her purse. She flutters her eyes down and I know she caught me looking.

"That's... that's um..." I force myself to get back on track. "That's a nice purse. But aren't they expensive?"

"Sure, but I can afford it." She shrugs off the huge price with confidence. God, that's sexy. A woman who can afford luxurious things and feel confident about it. She once again crosses her legs exposing a bit of thong. I can't help myself. I have to look. I watch intently as her leg lifts, shifts, then lowers again. "Like what you see?"

"Huh?" I look up from the show to her eyes. Her eyebrows are arched and she has a little smirk plastered all over her pretty face. Oh fuck! She caught me looking down there. "Is it hot in here? I think it's hot." I bolt from my chair and rush to the window. My face is burning up. I can feel the veins in my neck pulsing against my tie. I undo my tie and pull it out of my shirt collar in a quick yank. I crack the window hoping the fresh air would help out. I take a few deep breathes trying to calm myself down.

After a second I turn with embarrassment to face Maryse. She's still sitting there patiently waiting for me to regain my composure and interview her. I toss my tie onto the window sill and take my seat. I clear my throat and the heat flash is slowly fading.

"I've always liked the no-tie look. Maybe it's just me, but ties make men look stiff. There's only one thing on a man that should be stiff." She winks at me nonchalant and the heat wave rushes back over me. Did she just say that? A man should only have one stiff thing? I'm pretty sure that's a sexual remark. Oh my God... no, it couldn't have been. She wouldn't just say something so blunt, would she? I mean, she saw me gawking at her crossing her legs. She knows I was looking. Maybe she is just teasing me so I knock it off. Okay, I got this. Moving on, nothing strange about this.

"So, uh, Maryse, why did you choose my firm to fulfill your internship at?" I'm jumping right to business. That's the only way this whole awkward meeting can move along and not be any more humiliating.

"Well, I saw your success rate and knew I could be a part of it. If I'm going to be a part of something, I want to be with only the best." She answers my question as I'd expect anyone to. I jot her answer down on the piece of paper provided and move on. I advance down the questionnaire and Maryse answers everything perfectly. Either she knew what I wanted to hear or she really is a good candidate for this internship. We finish ahead of time and I know Maryse is the one. She's the person I'm going to train to become an ass-kicking prosecutor.

"Great job, Maryse. Here. Sign these papers and then we're all good to go." I slide the paper across to her and she browses through it before signing. She quickly etches her signature but drops the pen on the floor in front of my desk at her feet. She chuckles before leaning forward in the chair to pick it up.

"Whoops. I'll get it." Her cleavage exposes itself as she is bent. She lowers herself a little more and I can see it all. The round soft flesh teases me. I swallow hard as I stare at her chest taking it all in. She slowly sits back up and on her way up I get a quick peek at the tip of her mound. Her succulent nipple screams out to me wanting to be played with. Wanting to be fondled and sucked on. If I could just touch it... if I could just reach out and take those tits in my hands... I'd...

Her head pops back up and my eyes are still stuck on her cleavage. I'm yearning for just another peek. Just a little something more... She arches her back forcing her breasts to swell. She places the pen on the desk and then rises.

"Thank-you for this opportunity Mr. Cena. You won't be disappointed." She extends her hand to me and I shake it.

"Welcome aboard." I would normally stand up to shake hands with a person but not this time. Not with this amount of excitement down there. Her sexual remarks, and her tantalizing body has it out for me. I haven't been this turned on in weeks. If I stand up I'll burst out of my pants.

She whirls her hair in a circular motion as she turns and heads for the door. I watch her hips sway back and forth as she grows further and further from me. Back and forth. Back and forth. I watch them mimick a pendulum. I'm hypnotized. She leaves my office and leaves me aching bad. I can feel the throbbing. Its so urgent, so desperate. If Maryse offered herself to me I would have pounced on that tight body with no second thoughts. I haven't seen any action in weeks. My dick would have melted on contact. It's all I can think of lately. I just want to go home and take Trish. Today, I might just do that.


I hop out of my car with the nagging loneliness in my pants yearning for some therapy. I open the door to find Trish in the kitchen with her hair tied into a messy bun, pajama pants, and a tank top. She's standing in front of the stove. I go up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. I kiss her on the shoulder, then the neck, and then her cheek. I pull her close to me letting her back side feel the stiffy in my pants.

"John, get off of me." She wiggles her shoulders trying to pry my arms from her.

"Come on, baby. It's been awhile. I need you." I kiss her shoulder again and she once more rejects me. She pushes herself away from me and I let go.

"No, what you need is a good home cooked meal. You bitched about it and I'm tired of hearing your mouth. So back up and let me concentrate." She turns her back to me once more and adds some salt to the boiling water.

"Forget about the food. I want you." I reach out and place my hand on her waist. Trish grabs my hand in a tight grip and squeezes so hard I can feel the bones in my hand pop.

"Get it off before I break it off." I yank my hand hastily out of her grip. I shake it in pain and feel the passion and arousal just flush from my body.

"I'm not doing anything with you. Not with the way you've been treating me lately. I'm not your fucking sperm bank. You're not going to use me to get off any time you feel like it. If you want me, you're gonna need to earn me. I'm not some whore." Her words spew at me like poison. I've been trying to control my rage but I can't contain it anymore. She's been cursing at me all the time. Insulting me. Stressing me out. And now she's trying to accuse me of not treating her right? Screw that. This is the last straw.

"No, you're not some whore! You're my wife! MY wife! I chose you. I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life. I promised to treat you right and always love you. I kept my promise. You haven't. You don't talk to me. All you do is yell and nag at me. But after all that, I still love you. I still want you. In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been doing so well lately. I have a bunch of people trying to compete with my firm. I just had a ton of my employees jump ship and transfer to another lawyer. I'm losing thousands of dollars everyday. After a stressful day all I want to do is come home and eat some good food, and make love to my wife. But the past few weeks I haven't even been able to do either of those things. I don't know what to do anymore." I vent and let all the rage off my chest. Trish keeps her detached stare not seemingly interested in anything that I'm saying. After a few seconds, she finally speaks up.

"Well, damn John. I'm sorry I'm not the perfect wife you thought I'd be. I'm sorry that I'm a human being with flaws and I'm not perfect. I'm sorry I'm not woman enough for you. I'm sorry that I've wasted your time. If you're so unhappy with me maybe you should just FUCKING DIVORCE ME!" She screams the last words at me at the top of her lungs before exploding into a fit of tears and running away.

"Jesus Christ. Trish." I follow her into the living room in time to see her running up the stairs like a tantrum throwing teenager. "Trish! Come on. I..."

"Fuck you, John! You can go fuck yourself!" She stomps all the way up the stairs once more like a child. I grit my teeth and hurry to the stairs.

"Yeah, well that'll be the most action I've gotten in awhile no thanks to you!"

"Then go suck a dick! How's that action for ya?! Jackass!" She slams the bedroom door leaving me at the foot of the steps with my jaw wide open. Holy shit. Did she just say that? My own wife just told me, ME, to go suck a dick. She's never said anything like that before. Hell, she's afraid to talk dirty to me even when we're screwing. She refuses to curse majority of the time. And now she's telling me to go fuck myself and suck a dick.

What happened to my wife? She's not the same woman she used to be. She'd never curse let alone talk to me like that. This is it. Our marriage had officially become one of those empty loveless marriages. The ones where people just stay in it because it's convenient or they are used to the person. I vowed never to have a marriage like that. I don't want to be like my parents. But I just can't get through to Trish. She's completely shut me out and can't even have a simple conversation with me. All we do is yell and fight. This marriage is doing nothing but adding to my long list of problems I already have.