Page 49 of A Sinner's Truth

I roll my eyes. He adds a winky face emoji onto the end of his message. Idiot.

I shove my phone back into my bag, and as soon as I walk into my office, I know something is off. There’s also a huge bouquet of red roses sitting in the middle of my desk. I walk around and pluck the white card from the top.

Aria,

You took what belongs to me. I’m coming to get it back.

There isn’t a signature or a name to identify the sender. Chills run up my spine. I don’t know why but I feel like I’m being watched. I look up at all the corners of the office. My father has very high-tech security in the building, but he’s always insisted there were no cameras in this office. Right now, though, I definitely get the feeling there are.

I shove the card into my bag and collect the few little ornaments I had on my desk that I want to keep. I’m not happy to be leaving this place. I really like my job here. Maybe I can come back after the year. I’m still my father’s only heir. Unless he writes me out of his will, I will inherit this company. One day.

I’m tempted to go up to the top floor where his office is and see him. Maybe he’s had a change of heart. Maybe he can see how trying to force me to marry someone for the benefit of a business deal wasn’t okay. That said, I don’t think I’m ready to actually face him alone yet. So, instead of seeing my father, I go and say goodbye to each person I’ve worked closely with over the last year, promising to stay in touch.

I don’t know if it’s an empty promise. I always got the impression that I was welcomed and liked for my hard work. But when you’re the boss’s daughter, there’s always that doubt in the back of your head that the staff is only being nice to you because they want to keep their jobs.

When I get to the café, Drew is already there waiting for me, a huge pair of dark sunglasses covering half his face. Whatever he did last night, he’s paying for it now. I shake my head. This is a recurring thing with my best friend. He’s a big partier. Me? Not so much. I love to go out and dance, but I have to be in the right mood for it.

“Hey, thanks for meeting me.” I bend and kiss his cheek.

Drew stands, his arms circle my waist, and he holds me so freaking tight. “You good?” he says, finally letting me go and sitting back down.

“Mhmm.” I nod my head and pick up the menu. I already know what’s on it, though.

“What’s wrong? Did that arsehole do something?” Drew asks me.

“Other than give me the best orgasms of my entire life? No.” My cheeks heat up, but I can finally pay Drew back for all the times he’s made me listen as he went into detail about his sexcapades. I’ve never had any of my own to write home about, so to speak. But now I do, and the screwed-up expression on Drew’s face as he removes his glasses is worth every bit of embarrassment I’m feeling right now.

“Ew, I do not need those visuals, Aria.” He shakes his head, as if it’ll help purge the images from his mind.

“What? You always tell me about your sex life.” I shrug.

“That’s because it’s me, not you. You might as well tell me my nana has a sex life,” he says.

“She did make your mother at some point. She had to have sex for that to happen.” I laugh.

“Did you bring me here to torture me?” Drew deadpans.

“No, I brought you here to brag about the amazing orgasms I finally got.” I smirk.

“Kill me now. Okay, let’s hear it. What he do to rock your world?” Drew waves a hand in a rolling motion, his way of telling me to get on with it.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The waitress stops by our table. Although her question is aimed at both of us, her eyes are solely on Drew. I’m used to this, though. And Drew? He loves the attention.

“I’ll have a latte, full-cream milk. She’ll have an English breakfast tea, skim.” Drew gives her our usual order. After she walks away, he turns to me. “Okay, out with it. What makes him so good?”

I smile. The thoughts of everything Santo did to me, the pleasure he brings me, have my thighs clenching together. “Okay, we haven’t actually had sex yet,” I admit.

“You haven’t had sex yet?” Drew deadpans. “What did you do?”

“He… well… you know.” My words are whispered. I can’t say them out loud.

“No, I don’t know. What’d he do?” Drew laughs, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

“He used his fingers… and his tongue,” I say.

“That’s it?” Drew asks.

I nod. The waitress comes and places our drinks in front of us.

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