Page 93 of Sinful Desires
And I didn’t think it was ever leaving.
Because when you’re the one who killed your own father, you don’t get to ask for mercy.
You don’t deserve forgiveness. You don’t deserve shit.
“I will try.”
“Promise me.”
“Je te promets, Maman.”
“Okay.On t’aime, Théo.À la vie, à la mort.”
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“A gentleman holds my hand. A man pulls my hair. A soulmate will do both.”
? Alessandra Torre
Scarlett
“I think Jonathan will be here tonight,” Victoria said with a grin. “Maybe you’ll finally be able to fuck him.”
She looped her arm through mine as we wandered deeper into my parents’ mausoleum of a mansion. Marble floors, sterile art, fake smiles.
My father had invited the usual circle—close families, legacy names, political handshakes dressed in black tie. Some bullshit dinner to celebrate his next project in London. A tower or a museum or something else made of stone to distract from the rot beneath it.
A few days ago, he had called me tolet me knowI’d be attending. Said he’d begratefulif I sang a song.
Grateful.As in, you don’t have a fucking choice.
Théo trailed behind us in silence. Black cargo pants, boots, tight long-sleeved top, bulletproof vest, earpiece in.
Yesterday, after the shoot and the best sex of my life, we’d run through back-to-back meetings, followed by a Versace fitting and makeup trial for theGQ Woman of the Yearissue. We had gotten home and I’d collapsed on the couch, still in full glam, and passed out almost instantly.
Next thing I knew, it was early afternoon and I was waking up in just my underwear and one of Théo’s black shirts. It was too big on me and smelled like him—warm, clean, and a little dangerous.
My face felt bare. No lashes. No makeup.
I turned my head and saw an open box of wipes sitting on the nightstand. Not only had he carried me to bed, but he’d taken my makeup off too.
I hated to admit it, but Ilovedthat he’d taken care of me. My stomach did that annoying fluttery thing I hated.
To think this man hadn’t touched a woman in thirteen years. And somehow, I was the one he’d broken that promise for.
Whatever line he had sworn he’d never cross, I’d made him crawl right over it.
“Maybe you can even do it in your childhood bedroom,” Victoria teased, laughing as she pinched my arm.
My eyes flicked back to her. “What?”
I hadn’t heard a single word she’d said. I was too busy fantasizing about the man behind me. Grabbing my arms, pushing me up against the wall, pulling my panties to the side, and fucking me so hard the whole house would hear.
Victoria gave me a look, one brow arched. “You’ve been weirdly quiet all day. What’s going on? What are you hiding from me?”
My cheeks flushed.Fuck.
