Page 27 of Tempted By Sin

ACE: Psycho, hmm? I’m psycho enough to walk in right now, tie your fucking fiancé up, and make him watch while I fuck you. He’ll hear you cry out my name and not his. Is that what you want?

PAE: You wouldn’t dare….

ACE: Call me a psycho again, and see what happens, little bird. I’m a man of my word.

I watch as she squirms while reading my text. My cock is painfully hard at seeing her body react this way, and it takes everything in me not to touch myself at the sight of her.

Before she can type a response, the senator says something, snatching her attention away from me. She lowers her phone in her lap and resumes their conversation, forgetting about me.

I grit my teeth and slip my phone back into the pocket of my jeans.

One day, she will be mine. I’ll make fucking sure of it.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Paetyn

I knowhe’s watching me.

Every day for the past two weeks, I’ve felt his intense gaze no matter where I am. The gym, leaving work, visiting Liam’s parents, whenever I’m at the hospital visiting my mom, or even sitting in the living room with Liam by my side.

He texts me every day, too. Sometimes it’s flirty messages or simple ones asking how my day was. I haven’t replied since Liam caught me texting him during dinner after he threatened to burst into the house and fuck me in front of my fiancé. I could barely look Liam in the eye when he asked who I was texting. I had to play it off that it was Raya.

I couldn’t deny the adrenaline rush coursing through me at the moment, wondering if my captor was crazed enough to make good on his threat. I mean, he kidnapped me, so I’m sure breaking and entering is nothing to him.

Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to respond to any of his text messages. The more I engage with him, as Raya said, the more danger I’m putting myself in. I thought it would be easy to ignore him, but it’s a little hard when I feel his intense blue eyes on me or my heart skips a beat whenever he texts me.

What the hell is wrong with me? This Stockholm Syndrome shit is working overtime right now.

What I want to know is why he hasn’t approached me. He follows every move I make, yet he hasn’t shown his face.

Why?

What is he planning?

Whatever he’s doing has me on edge. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if he’s going to be standing there, watching me with his intense gaze. Or will he pop out from the shadows of the trees around my house and break in to tell Liam what happened while he had me held captive? This man is capable of anything.

Not knowing his next move has consumed my mind for weeks. I think Liam is starting to notice something is going on because he has asked multiple times if I need to speak to someone about what happened to me. Each time I tell him I’m fine, but I think we both know I’m not.

He thinks I’m distressed and anxious about my kidnapping, but little does he know I’m on edge because I can’t stop thinking about my captor.

Who is he? And what does he want from me?

All the unanswered questions I have swirling in my mind are slowly but surely driving me crazy.

With a huff, I step out onto the street after a long day at work. I’m finally caught up on all the appointments I missed with clients and am now back on my regular schedule, but I haven’t been sleeping well. Which is understandable given my kidnapper is now stalking me. I can feel the bags under my eyes, and I know they’re more than visible to those around me. But there is nothing I can do about it.

I wrap my coat tighter around my waist and merge with the rush of New Yorkers ready to get home. Liam has finally agreed to let me drive myself to work again, so I’m back to parking in the same lot I normally do, much to his concern, given what happened last time. I managed to ease his mind by reassuring him that if I ever feel unsafe, I will stop driving myself and go back to having a driver.

What Liam doesn’t know is I have felt my stalker's presence behind me for the past seven days I’ve walked to my car. Every time I’ve entered the same alleyway he kidnapped me from, I expect him to come from behind and snatch me away again. But each time he doesn’t, I get the sense kidnapping me isn’t part of his agenda anymore.

So, what is? What does he get out of stalking me? If it’s not to kidnap me, then what?

I don’t understand.

A puff of air swirls around my head as I turn left, beginning the long, tortuous walk down the alleyway. I hold my breath, waiting to feel his presence like I have the past week.

And just like clockwork, I feel him. His eyes burn holes in the back of my head, sending a chill racing down my spine.

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