Page 39 of Sinfully His

Off camera, there was another voice, one I would recognize anywhere. Father Manwarring was asking him questions that made little sense. Then Raul, my sweet Raul, broke my heart.

Of course, I knew there was always a possibility that our relationship had started with a lie because Raul wanted access tomy family’s money. Everyone in my social circle knew well that our wealth made us targets for con men and grifters.

When we first met, I thought maybe that was the case with Raul and he was humoring my crush because of my family’s money, but then I thought we had more. I thought he loved me, not because of my money, but despite it.

Even the way he spoke on the video was so different from the man I knew.

When he admitted his plans, about leaving me if my mother paid him, or worse if she didn’t and forcing me to pay him alimony after he knocked me up then stole my child, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe any of it.

Then he admitted to having sex with my mother. My stomach lurched, and I was grateful I skipped most of breakfast. Not only had he lied to me, used me, never loved me and actually plotted against me, but he had been with my mother.

Raul had listened to me whine and complain so many times about her control and the way she treated me and all the while he was getting paid to sleep with her.

“Turn it off,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay, you’ve seen enough.” Father Manwarring tapped the phone with his thumb and then put it away.

“When was this taken?”

Something wasn’t quite making sense in the back of my head. There was a connection my brain wanted to make but just couldn’t accept.

“Last night, before the poor man died.”

“Did you—” I couldn’t finish the words.

“No, angel,” he said, still petting my hair. “I may not act as all priests do, but I did not take that man’s life.”

I nodded, not sure I believed him.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, pulling me to my feet.

“Understand?”

“Do you understand that little asshole was not worthy of your time when he was alive? He was not worthy of your affection then, and he is not worthy of your grief now.” He wiped away the tears streaming down my face with his thumb in a surprisingly sweet gesture.

For just a second, barely enough time to blink, I forgot what this man really was. I took comfort in his touch, solace in his kindness.

“Do you understand?” He leaned close to me, his voice barely above a whisper. “That I own your body. Your pleasure belongs to me, and I am the only man who will ever get to touch you.”

Just like that, he broke the spell I was falling under. He reminded me of exactly whose arms I was in.

“I understand, Father,” I said obediently, casting my eyes to the floor.

“Prove it,” he growled, his kindness shifting into anger so quickly I could barely keep up. “Go lock the door and take off that dress.”

“But—”

“Do as I say. You know what will happen if you don’t,” he warned.

He would tell my mother, and then there was no telling what she would do.

At least I knew where I stood here. Father Manwarring may use me, corrupt me, but he wasn’t lying to me. He wasn’t pretending to love me. I knew exactly what this was. There was something coldly comforting about that.

I stood and locked the door. If the butler tried to come in, he wouldn’t be able to and as long as we weren’t too loud, I could tell my mother the door was locked for confession.

The dress I put on this morning was made of a soft wool blend, and when I lifted it over my head, tossing it on a dresser, I shivered in the cold air of the room.

“What now?” I asked, not knowing what he was expecting of me this time.

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