Page 3 of Sinful Pleasure

It was a formal agreement for an arranged marriage. My father hadpromised me to the heir of the King family—their eldest son, Angelo King.

This marriage wasn’t about love or choice.

It was a strategic alliance.

The Kings needed a clean, respectable image in society, a veneer of legitimacy to hide the illicit empire they ruled from the shadows. In return, our family was promised a life of luxury and protection under their banner.

My family is well-known and respected in society. My father had been an honorable man, admired by many. Just the kind of association the Kings needed to keep the law and prying eyes off their tracks.

And that contract, with my father’s signature, was undeniable proof of how legitimate—and binding—it was. My life was shattered that day.

I screamed, I cried—I wept like a madwoman at his grave.

How could he do this to me? His own daughter? Why?

Questions swirled in my mind, but there were no answers. Only the relentless ache of betrayal.

My father had been a close friend of Martin King, Angelo’s father. The capo. The man who ruled The King’s family with an iron fist.

I’d read about Angelo in an article once. He was said to run one of his father’s “legitimate” businesses, building his fortune and reputation in the process.

I had seen him a few more times while growing up. My father had mentioned that he had a sister and a brother, but I’d never met them.

No one seemed to know much about them at all, as if the siblings were shrouded in secrecy, hidden from the public eye.

Angelo King was the only child in his family to bask in the spotlight from an early age, and he thrived on it. He loved every second of the attention.In our society, he’s infamous—a notorious womanizer with a charming smile and an aura of untouchable power.

And as much as it pains me to admit, Angelo isn’t hard on the eyes either. He’s the kind of man sculpted for admiration: a sharp, chiseled jawline, dark brown eyes that seem to pierce right through you, and coffee-coloredhair that’s almost always slicked back in perfect precision.

And now, he made sure I understood the new rules of my life even before setting foot in this house.

Angelo King now controls every aspect of it.

The first reminder? A bodyguard.

Sent to watch over me like I’m some fragile, reckless little girl.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll bow down quietly. I won’t go down without a fight.

I’m Allyn Delgado.

And it’s time someone reminded the King’s family that even the mightiest kingdoms can fall.

CHAPTER2

ALLYN

“Mrs. Delgado demands your presence in the dining room, miss.”

I turned to see Clarissa, one of our maids, standing in the doorway.

I offered her a kind smile in return. “I’m coming.”

She nodded, then hesitated. “You look beautiful, Miss.”

“Thank you, Clarissa.” I smiled.

As she left, I glanced at myself in the full-length mirror, letting my eyes trail over the red vintage Prada dress clinging to my frame. It was simple and classy—exactly my mother’s style.

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