Page 10 of Sweetest Sin
“You getting my number or taking me out on a date,” she clarifies.
“Why not?”
I can think of a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t pursue this woman, starting with the fact that until I sort out this arranged-marriage bullshit, I’m technically promised to another woman. Yet I still want Peyton to say yes.
“We don’t live near each other, so it would never work.”
I open my mouth to argue, but before I can come up with a rebuttal, she adds, “And if you tell me it doesn’t matter, it does. I know we both feel it. The chemistry sizzling between us. Add in the fact that I haven’t had sex in months, and it would be easy for me to get caught up in the moment. But I tried the long-distance thing with my ex, who swore he loved me, only for him to cheat on me with my best friend. Three years wasted.” She sighs. “You’re handsome, and from what I can tell, you’re sweet and chivalrous, but I have my mom to take care of, and I’m just not in a place to start something that will ultimately lead to heartbreak.”
I want to argue with her, but everything she’s saying is spot-on. I can’t give her what she needs, and it would be selfish of me to say otherwise.
So, instead, I pull a hundred out of my money clip, drop it onto the table, and then stand. “It was great to meet you, Peyton, and I enjoyed getting to know you.”
She nods in understanding and stands as well. “It was great to meet you, Dominick. Thank you again for what you did with Dale. I really appreciate it.”
When we reach the gate, Peyton disappears behind the door, and soon after, business class is called to board. The entire trip, she’s professional. She smiles and says all the right things when getting me a couple of drinks. But I can see a hint of sadness hidden behind her expression and I can’t help but wonder if maybe she was hoping that instead of agreeing with her, I would fight for her.
And I wish I were in a position to do so.
4
Dominick
“Is Brielle coming?”I ask when I walk into the kitchen on Sunday afternoon, fresh out of the shower after my workout session in our private gym.
I’d rather spend my afternoon doing anything but hanging out with my father, but Sunday dinners make Mom happy—and she deserves whatever happiness she can find, being married to the Devil himself. And it also means seeing my sister, who rarely comes home from college unless she’s forced to do so.
Mom and Brielle always cook a delicious meal and dessert. We have drinks and talk over dinner, and even though I can’t stand being in the same room as my father, I get a bit of satisfaction from watching his health rapidly decline.
Only Brielle hasn’t shown up for the past three Sundays, and I’m starting to worry. After she missed the first dinner, feigning illness, I offered to visit her, but she insisted I stay away, claiming to be contagious.
The following Sunday, she used the excuse that she was behind on her studies due to being sick and couldn’t make the drive home.
Last Sunday, she didn’t even bother with a decent excuse. When she didn’t show up, I called, and she said she forgot but promised she would see me this Sunday. Something sounded off in her tone, but she hung up before I could question her. I know she’s having a hard time with the thought of having to marry Anthony, but she knows that Matteo and I are working on it.
“She’s not coming,” Mom chokes out.
When she turns around, I notice the tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, walking over to her to make sure she’s not hurt.
The only time I’ve seen her cry is when Dad’s hurt her, and it’s clear from her splotchy face and puffy eyes that she’s been crying for some time.
“Your sister and father had a falling-out. She turned off her phone, which led him to believe she was going to run away, so he had his men go to her apartment to bring her home.”
“Do they have her?” Matteo asks, walking in and joining the conversation.
As much as we’d prefer to have our own places, in order to keep Mom safe from our asshole father, we still live at home, knowing he won’t touch her while we’re here now that we’re capable of knocking him on his ass if he lays a finger on her.
“No,” she whispers. “I don’t know the details since your father doesn’t feel the need to keep me informed, but I heard him yelling about her not being at her apartment, and then he took off to go after her himself. I’m worried,” she says, her gaze flitting from Matteo to me. “I’ve never seen him this mad before. And he knows about her boyfriend.”
“What the hell do you mean, her boyfriend?” Matteo yells, then turns to me. “Did you know about this?” he accuses.
“I had my suspicions, but she never confirmed,” I say sharply. “And I didn’t think she’d be dumb enough to flaunt it in public, where our father could find out.”
“Can you locate her?” Mom asks Matteo, who’s already typing away on his phone.
“Fuck, her location is off.” He glances up at me. “We can’t let Dad get to her. You know he’ll stop at nothing to see his fucking plan through.”
