Page 162 of Sinful Pleasure

Maddox had said it himself—if given the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to end me.But even knowing that, my heart refused to accept it. I can’t. I don’t want to.

I didn’t want to accept that the man who once worshiped my body, making me forget the world with each touch, would kill me without a second thought.

I stared into my father’s eyes, jaw clenched, and for the first time, I didn’thave the words to fight back. He knew it—he could see the battle in my eyes, and I could tell he was savoring the victory of his manipulation.

“I meant what I said, Mikael,” I mumbled, my voice low and thick with defiance, avoiding his probing question. “Stay away from him.’’

That was the last thing I said before turning my back on him. The weight of my words still hung in the air as I left the room.

Daphne’s heels clicked behind me, a rhythmic echo of my own chaos, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My thoughts were unraveling faster than I could process, and I was teetering on the edge of something I wasn’t ready to confront.

“That was fucking intense,” Daphne whispered. “Where are we going?” She asked, trailing after me like a curious shadow.

I glanced back at her, knowing full well that what I was about to do might be the biggest mistake of my life, but for once, I didn’t care.

I was going to listen to the pounding in my chest instead of my head. I didn’t answer her. But she followed anyway.

The guards at the door didn’t question me this time, their postures stiffening only slightly before they stepped aside.I pushed the door open, the creaking sound of the hinges a sharp contrast to the silence in the room.

When I saw Maddox, a strange sense of relief washed over me. This time, he wasn’t chained to a rusty chair. He had a bed, though his hands were still cuffed and bound.

Daphne, ever bold, stepped in behind me, but the moment she saw him, the cocky, fearless woman she always was seemed to falter. I could see the horror flashing in her eyes as she took in the sight of Maddox, his condition worse than I had imagined.

He didn’t react immediately. Slowly, his head lifted, his black eyes locking onto mine.And in that moment, my breath hitched in my chest.

His gaze was cold. Deadly.

But there was something more—something deeper. I couldn’t read it. I didn’t know if he was angry, broken, or just done with everything.

But whatever it was, it was enough to steal my breath.For a second, neither of us moved.

As if our eyes spoke a thousand words before a single one left our lips.

I gathered my courage, taking a hesitant step toward the bed. Daphne stayed near the door, her presence a reminder that I wasn’t alone, though her silence felt like a vacuum.

A thousand thoughts raced through my head as I closed the distance, Maddox’s dark gaze following my every move.

My heart pounded violently in my chest as I lowered myself onto the bed, the edge dipping slightly under my weight. My body was so close to his wounded leg that I could feel the heat radiating from the poorly bandaged wound.

Daphne remained still, watching us both while clutching the items I’d asked her to bring.

“I’m here to help you,” I said.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression inscrutable as he studied me, his silence heavier than any words could have been.

“Will you let me?” I asked again, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady.

Still, he said nothing.

He stared at me, the cold emptiness in his gaze making my breath catch. Then his eyes flickered to Daphne, and for a moment, I thought he might say something, but he remained quiet.

I turned to Daphne and nodded. She stepped forward cautiously, handing me the small bowl of water where the medicine had dissolved.

Maddox’s gaze stayed fixed on me as I dipped the towel into the water, the warm liquid soaking into the fabric and searing my skin like a brand. With trembling hands, I pressed the cloth to his leg, starting to clean the wound.

His reaction was subtle—a barely audible sigh of relief. He leaned his head back against the bed’s headboard, his eyes falling shut for the first time since I’d entered the room.

His tense expression softened slightly as the warm towel worked over his wound, the sharp angles of his face now framed by the disheveled mess of his dark hair.

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