Page 175 of Sinful Pleasure

No one understood what it was like to live a life written for you without your consent.

“I was fucking wrong to think so highly of you.” he spat.

“You don’t have the right to talk to me like that,” I managed to say, my voice trembling, betraying how deeply his words cut, like a knife.

“Can’t I?” He sneered. “Get out, Allyn.”

Tears streamed down my face now, and I wasn’t even trying to be strong. I couldn’t, not when he was speaking to me like this. Like I was nobody.

“You want to make me feel bad for something I never asked for?” My voice rose in anger as I walked closer to him, not caring anymore. “Fine, do it. I don’t care.”

But I lied. I did care.

“Good. Now leave.” He nodded toward the door. “I don’t want to look at your fucking face.”

Ouch.

“I’m not interested in listening to anything coming out of your lying fucking mouth,” he spat, tilting his head to the side. “But if you want to suck my cock, then I might consider forgiveness.”

His lips stretched into a smirk, looking at me like I was the cheapest slut in the world.

“I’m sure your fiancée won’t mind sharing you.”

I slapped him. Hard.

His head jerked to the side, my hand imprinted on his cheek. Maddox inhaled sharply, his fists clenched.

“You want to know the truth?” I said through my tears, backing away from him as he still refused to look at me.

“Me and you. It was more than just sex for me. So much more.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” he mumbled, his voice flat and tired. “Save your sweet words for your fiancée.”

I nodded, letting his words settle in my mind, sealing them there.

I allowed myself to look at him one last time.The man who hated me. Who ruined me for everyone else, and I never even had the chance to call him mine.

Because he wasn’t mine. He never was. And he never will be.

I left the room, slamming the door behind me, not caring that everyone could see me crying.

It wasn’t a breakup—we were never a thing.

But it sure as hell hurt like one.

CHAPTER51

MADDOX

How is it possible for emptiness to feel so fucking heavy?

I felt nothing—so hollow that it was frightening, even for me. The clock on the wall counted down my time.

My end was near, but somehow, I didn’t give a fuck.

The same clock also measured the hours since I last saw Allyn. And, somehow, that was all I could think about.

I would rather die than feel this rage and malice building inside me. I should die—because if I ever get out of here, I’ll burn this world to the ground, turning it into fucking ashes.

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