Page 4 of Sinful Pleasure

Not mine.

If I had a say in this, I wouldn’t be suffering in these torturous high heels. I’d be in my comfortable white sneakers, a T-shirt, and a pair of well-worn jeans.

But of course, this wasn’t about what I wanted.

It never was.

Tonight’s “special occasion” was the arrival of my new bodyguard.

Why I needed to look like I was heading to the Met Gala was beyond me. Still, I swiped on a fresh coat of red lip gloss and gave myself one last look in the mirror.

The color on my lips matched the dress perfectly, butthe reflection staring back at me felt like a stranger.

With a sigh, I left my room. The sharp click of my high heels echoed down the marble hallway, each step drumming like a reminder of everything I’d lost control over.

A sound drifted from the first floor—the unmistakable sound of laughter. My mother’s laughter.

She was never one to laugh. Not like this.

I paused on the stairs, my chest tightening. She wasn’t alone.

When I finally descended, reaching the end of the stairs, I was greeted by the sight of a massive male figure standing with his back to me.My mother stood in front of him, smiling—beaming, even—like I’d never seen her before.

Then they both sensed me.

The man turned, and his eyes locked onto mine.

Oh, Lord.

He was huge.

I’m around six feet tall in my high heels and this man loomed over me still. His body was built like a fortress, solid and unyielding, with broad shoulders stretching the black suit he wore to its limits.

His hands hung at his sides, relaxed but impossibly large. Hands that looked strong enough to break me in two without effort.

Black ink curled across his knuckles, intricate designs that crept along his skin and disappeared under his sleeves, leaving me to wonder how much of him was tattooed.

There was something venomous about him. Something deviant. An energy pulsed from him, predatory and dangerous.

His head tilted slowly as he measured me, his sharp gaze dragging over me like a hunter sizing up his prey.

When our eyes met again, something inside me twisted. It was as if the air had been punched out of my lungs, stolen in an instant.

Not in a good way.

His face was a masterpiece—strong and perfectly defined in all the right places, as if God Himself had taken his time crafting him for the sole purpose of destruction.His pitch-black hair was slightly tousled, emphasizing the sharp lines of his features. But it was his eyes that truly captured me.

Dark, intoxicating pools of black that seemed to steal the air from my lungs and curse my soul all at once. Looking into them felt like staring into the abyss—like death itself was watching me.

The absence of color suited him perfectly, as if brightness would wilt in his presence. He stood there, his chin high, exuding dominance and power without needing to say a word.

Then, his gaze dropped from my face to my body.

It wasn’t a glance—it was an assessment. His dark eyes scanned me slowly, methodically, as if he were dissecting me piece by piece. My cheeks flushed under his scrutiny; he didn’t seem to care that my mother stood right next to him.

When he was done, his eyes narrowed briefly, dismissively, before flicking back to my mother. As if he’d decided I wasn’t worth more of his attention.

“She finally decided to join us,” my mother exclaimed, her tone light as she reached for my hand, pulling me forward. “That is my daughter Allyn.”

---