Page 4 of Guilty as Sin

Zoe tilts her head, considering and assessing us both. This is no innocent caught between two predators—she's a huntress in her own right.

"What do you suggest?" she asks, her eyes widening with a sudden, palpable fear, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of an oncoming car. For a moment, uncertainty grips the air. Perhaps we’re hurtling forward at breakneck speed.

Karl, unblinking, signals for the bill, his gaze locked on her with unwavering intensity. “Do you like to dance?”

CHAPTER 3

ZOE

“There’s a big society wedding next door. I saw guests arriving when the car dropped us off.” Karl looks completely serious. I can't tell if he's putting me on until Rolf joins in with a laugh.

“She's going to think you're joking,” Rolf chimes in, knocking back the rest of his scotch.

My stomach tightens, a strange cocktail of nerves and thrill.Crashing a wedding?I can see it in their eyes—this is not a drill. "Isn't that illegal?" I hear myself say, already knowing the answer.

Rolf's smile spreads, lazy and convincing. "Not technically.” His accent adds a touch of charm, making me feel like a woman in all those old spy movies, just before she gets seduced and corrupted.

Karl leans back, confident and relaxed. "The dinner's over by now. No one will notice if a few new guests slip in."

I can't help but question their plans—my mother raised me to follow the rules. Hoping to steer them in a different direction, I laugh, shaking my head at their audacity. Do people really do this? Their casual certainty makes it seem simple, but I hesitate, chewing my lip. I’ve always wanted to do something wild,something no one would expect from me, but isn’t this taking it too far?

The waiter arrives with the bill, and Karl slides his credit card across the table like a closing argument. I can feel his eyes on me, coaxing and playful. "What do you say, Zoe? A little dancing to cap off the evening?"

A shiver of excitement runs through me. I'm teetering on the edge of a decision that could mean one of two things: the best night of my life or an epic crash-and-burn. I glance at the waiter, half expecting him to jump in and tell me to go for it, but he only nods and thanks us, disappearing into the hum of the crowd.

"I'm not dressed for a wedding," I finally counter lamely. It sounds hollow, even to me.

Karl raises an eyebrow, assessing my sleek black dress. "You look perfect. No one will doubt you belong."

My mind whirls, replaying the evening—their smooth and insistent flattery, my surprise at how drawn I am to them both. I'm used to being in control, the one with the plan. It's exhilarating and terrifying to be swept up in their pace. My heart races, half from fear of getting caught, half from something else entirely.

I smooth the hem of my dress, buying time. I never do anything reckless. That's why I graduated at the top of my class. Mom would call me foolish and warn me about the consequences. But I'm not the girl everyone thinks I am, or maybe I don't want to be. I’ve just wrapped up my first big project, and this night was meant to be a celebration. It’s already been unforgettable, with Karl's attentive eyes and Rolf's intriguing mystery. This meeting was supposed to be about business, but it already feels like so much more.

I reach for my drink, using the motion to cover the tremble in my hand. The liquor is sharp against my tongue, and it steelsme in a way I didn't expect. I can still say no. I can still go back to being the girl who does everything right. But do I want to?

Karl's fingers drum lightly on the table, a steady beat that matches my pulse. He waits, composed but expectant, like he knows something I don't. My gaze flicks to Rolf, who leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. His intense blue eyes lock on mine, and I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

"It's now or never," Karl adds, a grin tugging at his lips. He knows. They both know.

I smile back, letting the anticipation spill over into laughter. "Alright," I hear myself say, voice breathy with disbelief at my own daring. "Let's crash a wedding."

Rolf's smile turns triumphant, and I can feel the room tilt slightly, like I've stepped onto the deck of a moving ship. My hair slips forward, and I tuck it behind my ear, more nervous than I care to admit.

"We'll make it a night to remember.” Karl’s movements are smooth, and every gesture is infused with elegance that borders on arrogance.

But I can't deny the pull, the intoxicating lure of leaving the world behind and losing myself in theirs.

"We can cut through the back," Rolf suggests, rising from his seat. His confidence is palpable, and it sweeps me along in its current.

I stand too, slightly breathless. Every second of this is surreal. Will I wake up with regrets or a delicious sense of disbelief?

"Adventure awaits," Karl quips, offering me his arm.

I take it, and the material of his suit feels cool against my skin. My legs feel unsteady, a heady mix of nerves and scotch, making everything vivid and unreal. I glance around the bar, expecting someone to point and call me out, but all Isee are strangers engrossed in their evenings, oblivious to the recklessness unfolding at this little table for three.

Together, we push open the heavy doors, and the chill of the New York evening wraps around us. My heart pounds against my ribs, and each beat feels like a question: What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

The lights of Fifth Avenue blur past as we hurry to the Plaza Hotel. Each step feels unreal, like I'm having an out-of-body experience. I feel the brothers flanking me, one on each side, anchoring me to this crazy, perfect moment.

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