Page 95 of Sweet Sinners
I rise unsteadily from the couch, my legs feeling weak as I take a slow, careful step toward the door. My heart is a painful thud in my chest, dread crawling beneath my skin, my breathing shallow.
A distant sound—faint, sharp. Footsteps on the porch.
She’s here.
A knock on the door.
I pause, my hand hovering over the doorknob, trying to steady myself. My throat tightens, fear mixing with the bitter taste of uncertainty.
My fingers curl around the knob, gripping tightly.
Another soft knock—impatient this time, like she knows I'm hesitating.
I force one deep breath, then another, and slowly pull the door open.
Anna stands in the doorway, eyes scanning me carefully, her expression cool and unreadable. I step aside without a word, allowing her to walk in, the sharp click of her heels echoing over the hardwood like a warning shot. She pauses, glancing around with a calculated sort of interest. "Such a nice house, Cali," she murmurs, her voice smooth but edged with ice.
"You practically lived here in high school," I remind her quietly, forcing a neutral smile. "Remember when we played with the Ouija board in the study?"
She hums softly, noncommittal, as I lead her into that same room—my father's former study, now my own office. As we pass the spot where my dad and stepmother took their last breaths—the place Connor can’t even bear to glance at—I swallow thickly and quicken my pace. Once inside the study, I motion toward one of the leather chairs, hoping my hands aren’t visibly shaking.
Anna settles into it gracefully, crossing her legs. "It's been a long time since then," she says, her voice deceptively calm.
"Unfortunately," I reply softly—more softly than I intend. "There are a lot of things I wish I'd done differently."
Her eyes narrow sharply, bitterness tightening her features. "Like firing me and filling my spot the same day? You humiliated me, Cali.Everyone watched security march me out like some criminal. Exactly how do you plan to take that back?"
I steady my voice, meeting her eyes directly. "Anna, I asked you here to talk about what's really going on between us. We used to be best friends—what happened? You know I turned Dean down. I told him clearly it was out of respect for you, because I didn't have those feelings for him."
Anna studies me, expression guarded, then slowly rubs her forehead as if fighting off a headache. "It was never supposed to get this messy," she says quietly, and for the first time, her voice loses some of its edge. "I don't even know how it spiraled out of control. Working for you made me anxious. The pressure, the expectations—it got under my skin. I lost myself." Her tone softens further, genuine vulnerability leaking through her carefully constructed walls. "Everything got bad when you left for college. My home life was a wreck, and suddenly I didn't have you around anymore." She lets out a bitter laugh. "You barely answered half my calls. Then your dad gave me that job—maybe out of pity, or as a favor to you. I don’t even know anymore. But after he died, that interim CEO was a disaster, and he didn’t care, so...eventually, neither did I."
She looks down, the confession hanging heavily between us, and suddenly guilt knots my stomach, anger mixing with confusion. What if I misjudged her? What if Anna is just desperate to reclaim her life, and this blackmail was her misguided way of doing it? She hasn't posted those pictures, hasn't actually crossed that line. And now the thought of falsely accusing her—just like I'd done to Connor—makes my chest tighten with dread. Dean hasn’t exactly been forthcoming either; what if I focused on the wrong person entirely?
Taking a breath, I force myself closer, softening my voice as I lean forward slightly. "Anna, what's been happeningat home? I can't believe I never even asked. We should’ve gone to lunch—I should’ve listened. I was thoughtless."
She sighs, dropping her gaze to her hands. "It's too much to unpack now. And it doesn't matter anymore."
"Of course it matters," I insist gently, forcing kindness into my tone. My heart pounds in my chest, anxiety tangling with sympathy. Connor's voice echoes softly in my head, a reassuring whisper reminding me to breathe. To focus. To stick to the plan. "Look, I know things got tense at work, but friends fight. I'm still CEO—there are plenty of positions. That spot I mentioned earlier? Better pay, better opportunities, a fresh start."
Anna's gaze snaps back up to mine, wary but searching. My heartbeat echoes loudly in my ears, uncertainty swelling again, but I refuse to break her gaze.
"I want to help," I say quietly, steadily. "But first you have to tell me the truth."
Anna shakes her head slowly, a grim, bitter smile twisting at her lips. Her eyes stay locked on me, colder than I've ever seen them. "I can't go back to that company without burning it to the ground, Cali. Honestly, I thought you'd hate it there—that you'd cash out, take the payout they offered, and build your own thing."
I lean forward, my pulse hammering as tension coils tighter between us. "What are you talking about? No one ever approached me about selling. No offers, no contacts—nothing."
She tilts her head slightly, surprise flickering across her face before quickly vanishing. "Really?"
"Yeah." My voice tightens, frustration seeping in despite my best efforts. "Maybe someone approached my grandparents, but apparently, I'm always the last to know."
Her eyes narrow thoughtfully, gaze searching mine before she exhales softly, glancing restlessly around the room. "This is cozy and all, but I'm not here to reminisce. Where's Connor?"
I shrug carefully, forcing myself to look indifferent even as my nerves stretch thin. "No idea. He's probably in the kitchen—or upstairs in the gym. Hard to keep track."
Anna’s lips press into a thin, tight line, irritation darkening her expression. She leans in closer, eyes flashing dangerously. "This doesn't work if you lie, Cali. I already know you're fucking him."
My breath catches, but I force myself to hold her stare steadily. "And I already know you took pictures of us doing exactly that."
