Page 12 of Sinfully His

I couldn’t show her kindness. She would have expected it. No one would have ever been anything but courteous to the little Astrid princess, and me being a dick was going to throw her. Keeping her off balance was how I intended to get my power over her back.

“What were you doing all alone in that alley?” I asked, buttoning up my black shirt.

“I was delivering ornaments to the church when I got dragged in there,” she said, looking around now that her eyes had adjusted to the light.

“Where are they now?”

“Broken.”

“Seems like someone else should have delivered them. How will you replace them?”

“The same way I got them, my mother will send some poor maid out to hunt in thrift stores, and then my mother will pretend they were family heirlooms.”

I had to bite back a laugh because that was precisely what Mary Quinn would do. Sowing the seeds of doubt would be fun once I got her a little further from her friends. If the women of the Upper East Side were to discover the baubles they admired and gushed about were not only not heirloom gifts but were instead someone’s castaways bought in a dingy secondhand store, they would turn their backs on her so fast. Mary Quinn’s isolation was going to make her downfall so much smoother.

I moved to my dresser, placing the pinky ring I had been wearing in a small dish with some cleaning solution. The blood would take a while to get out of the grooves around the diamond. Instead, I slid on another one, a simple signet ring that was far more appropriate. It had an engraving of Saint Jerome Emiliani, patron saint of orphans and abandoned children. Not that I gave a fuck about orphans, but it was a constant reminder of why I was on the path that I was on.

It reminded me who set me on this path and why it was so important to get my vengeance.

My cell phone was also on the dresser. I picked it up and called the car service my family used the most.

“Mr. Manwarring, how may I be of service?” the voice on the other end said, and I looked in the mirror, watching Rose behind me look around and fold her arms over her chest like that would somehow hide her state of undress. I liked her uncomfortable and fidgeting with her nails, worrying her plump bottom lip with her teeth.

“Yes, I need a car sent to my residence. Ms. Rose Astrid is requiring a ride home.”

The second I said her name, her eyes snapped to me, a little line of confusion forming on her brow, and she sank into herself a little more.

“Right away, sir,” the dispatcher said. “I have a car about three minutes from your location.”

I hung up the phone and kept my eyes on my little captive in the mirror.

“How do you know who I am?” she asked.

I ignored the question, and I chose what cross to wear. I had planned to wear the one with rubies inlaid into the chain, but since I had to alter the ring, I supposed the yellow gold one would suffice.

“How do you know my name?” she asked again, this time a bit more forcefully, more demandingly. It was like being yelled at by a kitten.

“I know a lot of things, my little angel,” I said.

Her nervous fidgeting had turned into pacing around the room. The gap in the sides of the shirt, formed by the longer tail and front hem, showed off her toned thighs, and I wondered how they would feel with my fingers digging into them while her ankles were on my shoulders.

I wasn’t sure, but I planned to find out… eventually.

As she moved, I got glimpses of those white cotton panties again, and my cock stirred with interest. I ignored it, just as I had ignored her question. Her affecting me was not part of the plan, so I simply could not allow it to happen.

I needed to focus. Once she was gone, I had work to do.

“Tell me,” she demanded again, and I watched her stomp her foot in anger as if that would solve anything.

“Give me a moment, and I will escort you out. I am sure your mother is looking for you. No doubt needing you to find more ornaments to buy.”

“Tell me,” she repeated, and I said nothing.

I picked up my Roman collar. I detested this thing when I first wore it. It chafed and felt unnatural. Sometimes, it still felt suffocating, but once I realized its rules could be ignored and the power it gave me was worth the discomfort, I grew to tolerate it.

I slipped the white collar into place before returning to my little damsel in distress.

She stared at me, her eyes open wide, and even her mouth hung open, showing me just how lush her lips were.

---